When My Boat Comes In
by Steadfast-Bright-Star
Summary: Lukas has never been good enough. He struggles to support his little brother by driving a tourist boat and can't cope with the feelings of inadequacy that constantly plague him, along with his shyness and lack of confidence. When Mathias starts work on the boat, Lukas pushes him away. Eventually, however, he learns it's ok to open up. T for upset Lukas and eventual DenNor. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello, readers old and new! This is something of a departure from my usual style, as I felt a weird urge to write this story in the first person present tense. Strange. Anyway, I'm not sure how successful this will be, so please review and tell me if it's worth continuing!**

…

When my boat comes in. It's a strange phrase, I think to myself as I get ready for another long day. It means when your luck improves. I'll buy a better house when my boat comes in, that sort of thing. It's not really something I would say, although I don't say much anyway.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Lukas Bondevik. I am twenty-two years old. I live in Norway with my brother, Emil. There's a story behind that, actually. I was an only child, since although my parents always wanted to have a second child, they never could. When I was eighteen and moved out, they found the house to be too empty and silent, so they adopted a little Icelandic baby boy. That's Emil. It was strange for me to adapt to a baby brother at the age of eighteen, but I took it in my stride. Two years later, my parents were involved in a road accident in which they both died. It was stipulated in my mother's will that if anything were to happen to them, I would become Emil's guardian. I do my best for him. I work as the driver of one of the tourist boats taking people to see the fjords, two hours per trip, up and down all day. It's ironic really – my boat comes into port every day and yet my luck never gets any better.

I look at the clock and see it's already half past seven. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I call downstairs. 'Emil, are you ready yet?' I hear a muffled noise of assent and go downstairs. Every morning, I feel a twinge of guilt. I don't spend nearly enough time with him as I should. He's growing into a taciturn, reserved child, like I was. Like I still am. I love him, of course I do, but I don't know how to show affection in the way my parents did. I love him distantly, like an emigrant uncle who sends money once a year. I'm a poor replacement for my parents and I'm reminded of that every time I look into his deep, serious eyes. When I reach the bottom of the stairs and put my shoes on, he takes my hand without a word and we walk to the door. He's only four, God bless him. Four years old and at the breakfast and after-school club every day. I wish I didn't have to work so long but if I didn't, I'd have to work weekends as well, something that's impossible for me.

The walk to school takes fifteen minutes and we don't speak at all, apart from a slightly awkward goodbye at the gates. I kiss his cheek because there's a teacher watching, expecting some display of warmth, as if that compensates for the fact that I drop him off so early and pick him up so late. I wave at his receding figure and head to the bus stop. When the bus comes, it's full of morning commuters, like it always is. I have to stand right next to a large man who seems to occupy more space than you would expect, even from one of his size. I carefully hold my body away but I end up jolting into him every time we stop. As we leave the town and come onto the country roads, the stops become less and less frequent. A few people get on but none get off. The bus goes to the next town and they're all on their way there, except for me. I get off miles from civilisation, the only buildings being the small harbour complex with a flat slab of tarmac, the carpark, gouged out of the mountainside. The people who go on the tours think that the scenery is incredible. I used to, but familiarity, as they say, has bred contempt, and now it moves me no more than the rows of ugly houses I pass on the bus every day.

The place is empty when I arrive. I'm always the first one here. I have a lot to do before we can go. I have to put on the stupid sailor suit that the boss of the company insists all drivers wear. I check the fuel and replenish it if necessary. I measure the oil, again, adding more if need be. I make sure that all the rescue equipment is present and in good condition and that the first aid kits are full. The last thing is to go into the control room and run the engine for a few minutes to check that everything is smooth. There's always some sort of problem when I run my inspections but everything's done by the time the others arrive and by then I'm already holed up in my control room. I don't do social interaction and everyone knows that, so I'm left alone unless something's wrong. If I didn't have Emil, I could probably go a whole day without saying a word. You've probably guessed by now that I'm single. It's not so much that I don't want a boyfriend, it's more that I'm worried about the effect on Emil. At my age, people have relationships that last weeks, a few months at most. I don't want Emil to be introduced to someone and getting attached to them, then having to go through the inevitable break-up. Besides, I don't have time to go out. Every moment I'm not working is spent looking after Emil or catching up on my sleep.

I'm surprised, and not a little nervous, when my boss walks in. 'Lukas,' he says, without preamble, 'I have someone here who you need to meet.' He's always like that, always very brisk. I suppose it's a German thing. 'This is Mathias,' he continues, gesturing to the man standing beside him, 'the new tour guide. I'd like you to give him the grand tour, since you know the boat better than anyone.' It's a compliment but I'm not sure how to respond, so I just nod. My boss goes out, leaving me with this stranger. 'I suppose you'd better come with me then,' I say, horribly aware of how unfriendly I must seem. Mathias smiles broadly. 'Aye aye, captain!' he says with mock salute, following me as I leave the room. I'm not sure how to begin the tour but I force myself to speak. 'The room we were just in was the control room. You don't need to go in there.' He looks at me a little uncertainly and I panic inside. Am I really that rude? I walk on with him trailing behind, pointing out the important areas until we come out onto the viewing deck. 'This is where you'll be working,' I tell him, then move over to where the life rafts are stored. 'These are what we use to evacuate if there's an emergency,' I say, then briefly describe what they're like.' Mathias laughs. 'They sound cosy! I might steal one and use it for a spot of fishing.' 'They're for emergency use only,' I primly reply, realising a fraction too late that he has made a joke. I curse myself. Why can't I just talk to people like a normal human being?

At nine o'clock, the first coach rolls slowly into the carpark and I watch from my seat in the control room as it disgorges its load of excited schoolchildren. The sight reminds me of Emil, and I wonder for a moment about what he's doing. I hope the other children are being nice to him. Some of them, he tells me, are mean because he's shy. The idea should fill me with righteous anger. I should march into school and demand to see the parents of the offending children but all I can do, in my weakness born of timidity, is tell him to ignore the teasing. It's what I would have done at his age and I would still do if it happened to me today. I see the figures, tiny at this distance, being organised into lines as the teachers call the register as the children jostle and push, impatient for the trip to begin. Eventually, they disperse, form groups around their designated teachers, and are led aboard. I look at the digital clock set into the plastic to my left. Quarter past nine. In fifteen minutes, I'll turn on the engines and start moving. The other sailors have already cast off our mooring ropes and now the boat floats, raring to go, just waiting for me to release its pent-up power. For the moment, I savour the privacy that the little bubble of my control room gives me. To me, it feels like a place truly my own.

When the time comes, I push the main handle forward and the boat roars into noisy life. I hear a few shrieks from the viewing deck as the children hear the engine, feel its vibrations under foot and smell the nauseating diesel. I hope that none of them are sick, since that tends to ruin the trip for everyone. Once we begin to move and the noise settles to a constant low drone, Mathias begins his tour. I know this because his microphone is linked to a speaker in the control room, to make sure that the tour is going well. I know the waters so well that I can give the act of driving just a little of my attention and listen to Mathias at the same time. I can't believe what I hear. The last guide repeated the same thing every time, until everyone on the boat could have done his tour for him, and he bored people to tears. Mathias is loud and exuberant. He answers questions with enthusiasm and poses his own. He makes the children laugh. He makes them interested. It will pass, I think to myself. A couple of weeks, a month at most, and he'll be just as dull as the other one.

After the second tour of the day, a group of retired Americans, the crew has a few minutes to eat something. I take a sandwich and am about to return to the control room when Mathias seeks me out. 'Is something wrong?' I ask, irritated at the delay. This is my only break for the whole day. He shakes his head. 'No, I just wanted to chat,' he says. 'Get to know you a bit better.' I step away. I feel strange. I don't talk to people, I just don't. It's not in my nature. 'I don't have time,' I say, pushing past him. I'm deeply uncomfortable. Nobody ever chats to me. If anyone did, I wouldn't have the faintest idea about what to say. I don't dare look back on my to the control room.

When the end of the day finally comes, everyone gets to leave except for me. I have to repeat all my checks from the morning, plus make sure that the boat is securely moored. I change out of my uniform in the toilets and stuff every hated bit of it into the bag. I'll have to iron it tonight, I think, adding it to my mental to-do list. I find myself thinking about Mathias. I suppose he'll be like all the other sailors, now that he's learnt to avoid me. I always push people away. I never let anyone get close. Maybe it's partly because of Emil, but really it's more because I'm scared of what could happen. I have so many insecurities and I just can't bring myself to share them with others.

On the bright side, I think grimly as I walk to the bus stop, facing into the strong wind that's blown up over the course of the day, I don't have to worry about being late for Emil. He's at Peter's house, and I'm glad for that. I don't like the after-school club. The toys are always broken, the paints are dried up, none of the advertised activities are actually offered. The staff always treat the children like an irritation and particularly Emil, since I'm so frequently late. The bus is late and just as crowded as it was this and every morning. At least the fat man isn't there this time. There's just enough space for me to read a few pages of my book, a pretty dense guide to childcare. I want to cry. Emil is almost my son, and yet I have to read a book written by someone who's never met him, just so I can try to understand him.

I get off a few stops later than usual and walk the short distance to Peter's house. Peter is Emil's friend, although they met because of my friendship with his parents, Berwald and Tino. Tino works at the nursery Emil used to go to last year. That was a hard year. It was costing me a fortune to pay for every possible session to make sure he could stay there all day. I vaguely knew Tino from the times I occasionally arrived late, apologising profusely. Then one day there was a bit of a crisis on the boat. Someone fell overboard and we had to launch a full-on rescue. They were finem but I had to spend hours afterwards talking to the coastguards, then I couldn't leave until I'd written a full report about the event. I arrived at the nursery two hours late, exhausted, horribly guilty and in tears. I had expected Tino to glare at me, to judge, to reach for the phone and call social services. Instead, he looked at my tear-stained face, my untidy uniform I hadn't had a chance to remove, the way I was barely still standing and he said, 'Tell me.' And I told him. Since then, we've been friends, and I don't think I could manage without him. Still, even though Emil loves going there to play, every time I tell him with false enthusiasm that he has yet another playdate, the implication is that it's only because I don't have time for him.

I walk up the narrow path to the front door and knock. From inside I can hear excited voices, then Tino opens it. He's wearing an apron and there's a dab of flour on his nose. 'Hi Lukas,' he says brightly. 'We've just been baking, as you can probably tell. Come in, Emil's dying to make you sample one of his cakes. He leads me into the kitchen and I sit down at the table as he makes us coffee. Peter and Emil are playing somewhere upstairs and I can hear muffled thumping as they run around. Tino looks up at the ceiling. 'One of these days, they're going to break right through it.' he mutters. He asks me about work, and for some reason I tell him about Mathias. 'There's a new guy,' I say, trying to sound offhand. 'Nice?' I shrug. 'Loud. Not really my type, but you know my thoughts on dating anyway.' Tino looks at me, concern in his striking purple eyes. 'You know, Lukas, we'd be happy to have Emil to stay the night if you ever did want to have a bit of fun. When I was your age I stayed out clubbing until six in the morning.' I'm touched by the offer, but I don't think I'll be taking him up on it anytime soon, so I steer the conversation in a safer direction.

A little while later, Berwald comes in. He kisses Tino and gives me a friendly smile. We understand each other, me and Berwald. We're both quiet, both thoughtful, both a little shy in our own ways. At the sound of the door, Peter and Emil come hurtling downstairs to say hello. Berwald lifts Peter up and ruffles his hair, making him squeal. I feel a sharp stab of envy as I watch them. They're such a perfect happy family. I know they had to wait absolutely years to adopt Peter, and few children are as wanted as he was. He has a bedroom and playroom overflowing with toys, both shop-bought and lovingly handmade by Berwald, and in the garden he has a playhouse, trampoline and swing. Emil was just as wanted, I think, but by my parents, not me. I have done my duty in raising him but nothing more. He has a few toys, including his beloved Mr Puffin, but he has not been cherished like Peter. I have failed him, I think, and I will continue to fail him. One day, I fear, he will look at me and be ashamed to call me his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

Friday finally comes around with agonising slowness and I feel a wonderful sense of relief as I steer the boat into port for the last time all week. I sigh as I realise we have our staff meeting and resign myself to being late for Emil again. The meetings are held on my boat, since it's the biggest, and as I turn the engine off I can see the crews from the other two boats walking over, dragging their feet. Nobody enjoys these meetings but they're a formality that can't be disposed of. I head quickly to the conference room where we meet. Why anyone would hold a conference on board a tourist boat is beyond me, but there it is. I'm almost there when I spot Mathias, who seems to be on the verge of leaving.

'Where are you going?' I ask him, wincing as the words come out sounding far too accusatory. 'Home,' he replies shortly. I haven't said a word to him since Monday but he clearly hasn't forgotten my rudeness. 'We've got a meeting now,' I say, trying to sound a bit less sharp. He sighs. 'My boyfriend's picking me up. He just texted to say he's already here.' I have no patience for that sort of thing. I want to tell him that I've got Emil waiting for me but I stop myself. I don't want anyone to know that sort of private information. The irritation returns to my voice. 'He can wait. It won't take long.' He sighs and picks up his phone. I go on ahead but stop dead when I hear his voice. 'Hey Gil… Umm, yeah, I'm going to be a bit late… A meeting… I tried, but Little Miss Priss says I have to go… Bye, see you in a minute.' The words hurt me. I may seem cold and detached, but they still hurt me. _Isn't that just what you wanted? _A mocking little voice whispers in my head. _You tried to push him away and now you have. Good job. _But the way he said it, the venom in his voice. He's clearly told his boyfriend about me before. I walk on, my footsteps uncertain. It's strange, but it's the fact he called me 'Little Miss' that hurts the most. I know I look girly. I know I'm skinny and my face isn't very masculine. I know I'm unattractive, but it still feels bad when people remind me of it.

I go into the meeting room and sit down. Everyone's here except Mathias and Ludwig, the boss, gives him an angry look when he eventually comes in, sulking, and then launches straight into the meeting. Usually, these things are over in about twenty minutes but today some of the sailors from my boat are annoyed because the mooring ropes are getting old and frayed. They look at me with open hostility as they speak. I don't care. I do this job because I need the money, not because I enjoy the company. I realise that the only person in the room who doesn't hate me is Ludwig, and only then because I don't dare be curt with him. The sailors manage to drag their complaint out to last a full fifteen minutes, at the end of which there are still all the other things to get through. I check my watch every few seconds, although that does nothing to slow the passage of time.

When it's finally over, there's a great scraping of chairs as everyone stands up, all eager to leave at once. I look at my watch one last time. If the bus isn't late, I'll only be half an hour late for Emil. As I walk through the car park on my way up to the bus stop, I notice Mathias sitting in a car with another guy who seems… is he an albino? Apparently so. They're talking, but as I go past I see them look up and Mathias points in my direction. They're talking about me, I realise. My eyes are dark blue and my mother used to call them 'fathomless deep'. They're my best feature, and now I turn and fix them with full force on Mathias. He holds my gaze for a moment, puzzled, then looks away, ashamed. He knows I saw him just now, and he knows I heard what he said earlier. I continue on my way, not letting myself slow down as I climb the gentle hill. I'm already thinking of what to say to the people at the after-school club.

When I get there, Emil is sitting alone on one of the small plastic chairs, playing some imaginary game with a couple of broken dolls. I can hear his little voice narrating the action, but I can't make out the words. I feel terrible, and not just because I'm late. For once, the fact that I'm lonely is bothering me. Tino's comment about me not having any fun comes back to me and I begin to wish that I had a little more freedom, but I banish the thought before it can form fully. There's nothing to be gained by thinking about things that will never happen. 'I'm sorry,' I say to the impatient woman, who just wants to leave on time for once. 'I had an awful meeting. It went on a lot longer than I thought it would.' She shrugs and jerks her head in Emil's direction, indicating that we should be on our way. She doesn't want to hear another of my excuses.

I come up behind Emil, trying to catch a little of what he's saying, but he notices me before I can get close and abruptly stops. 'What were you playing?' I ask, trying to forge some sort of connection between us before it's too late, as my childcare guide warned. He stands up and picks up his mini backpack, ready to leave. 'Stuff,' he says, then falls silent again. The moment we're outside, I try again. 'It's the weekend!' I say with false brightness. 'Isn't that just wonderful?' I try not to let a bitter edge of sarcasm into my voice. With others, I keep my voice flat and free of expression, with Emil I try to sound happy, even though I never really am. I look down at him, waiting for a response, and I'm shocked to see that his long-sleeved top now stops a good couple of inches above his wrists, and his trousers are certainly not supposed to be that short. Panic douses me in its cold shower. I have been neglectful, the dry voice of my childcare guide informs me. 'How about we go shopping tomorrow?' I suggest, already dreading the crowds of the town centre. 'You can choose some nice new clothes.' He still doesn't reply. It doesn't matter since we'll be going regardless. He can't be seen in those clothes, not on top of everything else. The teachers must be amassing quite a sizeable body of evidence against me. I want to shake him by the shoulders. Why won't he talk to me? He makes so much noise when he's playing around with Peter. What is it about me?

'What about this one? This one's nice.' We're out shopping, possibly my least favourite chore. Emil isn't taking an interest in anything and I'm getting tired of trying to engage him. I could just throw any old thing into the basket, but I want to make up for never being around so I want everything to be of his own choosing. We're just leaving the shop when he suddenly seizes my hand. 'I want the T-shirt with the puffin on it.' he announces. I follow his pointing finger and see that we're in the baby clothes section. The T-shirt is tiny. 'Emil, that T-shirt's for babies. It won't fit you,' I say, trying to let him down gently. He gives me a blank look. 'I want the T-shirt with the puffin on it,' he repeats, a little louder. I feel my frustration growing. I really, really don't want this right now. 'Maybe we'll find one in your size somewhere else.' People are beginning to look, something I hate. Emil curls his small hands into fists. 'I want it!' he shrieks. 'NO!' I say, not shouting yet, but nearly. He gives a little whimper, then takes in a deep breath. The calm before the storm. The moment of silence before a full-blown tantrum begins. 'I WANT IT!' he screams, and I can't contain my anger anymore. 'Well you can't have it!' I yell back. 'Shut up, you little brat! You never say a word to me and now that you have it's only because you want something.' I seize his hand and march us out of the shop, people's disapproving stares boring into my back as we walk.

We go all the way home in furious silence, broken only by Emil's snivelling. It's a pitiful sound and by the time we reach our neighbourhood I find that my irritation has dissipated slightly. I begin to feel a crushing sense of shame. I've done something I swore I would never do. I've let my own problems affect the way I care for Emil and that's just not right, not after all the things I put him through. When we arrive home, my hands are shaking so much that I can barely put the key into the lock. The moment we're inside and away from the world's gaze, I drop to my knees in the hallway, overcome by exhaustion and remorse. I reach out my arms to Emil. 'I'm so sorry baby,' I say, beginning to cry a little. 'I shouldn't have said those things earlier. I was unfair. You're not a little brat, you're a very good boy. You never ask for things and you never complain.' He seems to accept my apology, and comes into my embrace. I hold him tightly. 'I love you, you know that. I know I should say it more, but it's true.' I stroke his hair, my mind frantic as I think of how to make it up to him. I don't really know what he likes to do, beyond things involving puffins.

'Tomorrow,' I say, not breaking the rhythm as I carry on playing with his soft silvery-blond hair, 'Tomorrow you can choose what we do. We still need to go shopping, but after that you can decide.' He detaches his face from my shoulder. 'I want to go to the swimming pool,' he replies. His voice is quiet, wary, as if he's scared I'm going to shout again. I feel a pain somewhere far deeper than that I felt when Mathias was rude about me. Emil doesn't trust me. 'Ok, we'll go there then!' He seems undecided about me. Nice Lukas has replaced Angry Lukas but he might come back, and Neglectful Lukas can't be far off since it's only two days until Monday. I press on. 'And tonight we can have whatever you want for dinner, and you can skip your bath since we're going swimming and I'll read to you instead.' He gives me a rare smile and I feel a burden lifting. We're back on good terms, or at least neutral ones. 'I want chicken soup.' he eventually says.

'… And they all lived happily ever after.' I close the book of fairytales and look down at Emil. He's not asleep yet but he will be in a couple of minutes, judging by the way he's curled up beside me. I don't read to him enough and it's a shame; he loves books and will read to himself if I don't. He's one of the best readers in his class. I don't want to disturb him, so I kiss him on the cheek and leave the room. His door is always open a crack so that he can crawl into my bed if he has a nightmare. I know he gets bad dreams because he cries sometimes but he never looks to me for comfort. He just talks to Mr Puffin until he falls asleep again.

Once I'm in my room, I can finally think about everything that's been bothering me. I pull out my cross-shaped hairclip, a gift from my parents, and put it on the bedside table next to a set of runestones that I don't know how to read, although I like the patterns on them. I undress quickly and mechanically then pull my pyjamas on and climb into bed, my mind still buzzing. I find myself thinking about Mathias and it makes me feel absolutely wretched. He was nice. That first day when I met him, he was nice. It was only when I brushed him off, when I talked to him like he was an irritation, when I rebuffed him in the rudest way possible, that he returned my rudeness. Tears spring to my eyes. He only wanted to talk and yet I felt frightened for some stupid reason. I don't know why I'm so reticent and I wish I wasn't but it's gone on so long that if I open up to someone, I'll end up spilling absolutely everything. I have no friends, I realise. Berwald and Tino are kind to me but we don't do things together like friends do. We only meet up because Emil and Peter want to play. They can't know what it's like for me, even if they try to understand. The poisonous voice in my head returns. _Whoa there Lukas, better check in some of that emotional baggage you've got there, _it says to me and I can't shut it out.

I hate myself and I made Mathias hate me, even though, I now see, we could have become friends. I can't connect with my little brother and the only way I can think of making him happy is spending money I don't have on him. I let out a strangled cry, somewhere between a scream and a sob, and duck down under the covers. I curl up in the sweaty, uterine darkness and weep for everything that's gone wrong, all the stupid things I've done. I can't get my own life in order. What the hell am I doing looking after a child? I cry and cry until my eyes are sore and sticky and nobody comes to comfort me.

…..

'Lukas,' Emil says to me the next morning as we walk back into town for our second attempt at shopping. 'Yes?' I reply, looking down at his grave little face. 'Why were you crying last night?' Damn. I completely forgot that he could hear me. I keep my face calm while my mind frantically searches for an excuse. 'Umm… I hurt my knee,' is all I can think of. He frowns, confused. 'It went on a really long time,' he says at last. 'Yes, it was very sore.' He seems satisfied with the answer and retreats into himself again. I wonder what he's thinking about, but his face gives nothing away. He's becoming more like me than I would like.

The shopping trip goes a little better than the one yesterday. Emil doesn't ask for anything in case I shout again, which bothers me, but he at least responds when I ask if he likes something. Still guilt-ridden, I let him choose a new toy at the big new shop where everything's expensive. He comes back with a tiny car and I feel so bad that I let him get something else as well. I tick things off my mental list and find that our shopping is all done. Now we have to go swimming. I can't stand public pools; all that noise and the chlorine smell and the profound awkwardness of walking around shirtless among strangers. I have enough body issues without showing myself to other people. But I know Emil loves the water, and since he so rarely asks for things I'm in no position to refuse. We go in and pay and then get changed. I can almost feel people's eyes on me before I'm even out of the changing room. I look in the mirror. I'm short. I have skinny limbs and a smooth torso with all the muscle tone of a six-year-old girl. I turn away, not wanting to meet my own eyes. Emil is excited for once and skips ahead of me as we head to the pool. I resist the urge to hide in a corner.

I wish he was old enough to go in alone but I have to go in with him. I stand at the edge of the baby pool and watch him but after a moment he calls me in to join the fun. I splash him with water, making him giggle, and he flails around in his little rubber ring, almost flipping right over. I take a furtive look around to make sure that nobody's making fun of me. Sometimes I see girls hiding their mocking laughter behind their hands and pointing out my feminine physique to their friends. Not that I go for the girls, but it's still not nice. As I scan the area, I spot a familiar figure. It's Mathias, standing in the queue for the diving board. I'm suddenly nervous. What if he notices me? What if he sees me with Emil? I glance at him again. He's pretty good-looking and I feel a faint blush spread over my cheeks as I take in his muscles. I feel even worse about my own looks.

His unexpected presence has made me uneasy and my mind goes back to last night, when I was in the depths of my despair. I swear to myself that I will apologise on Monday. If he throws it back in my face then I'll deserve it but if not, it would be nice to have someone close to my age to talk to. I realise that Berwald and Tino are fifteen years older than me. It shouldn't really matter but at my age it does. Emil tugs my hand, bringing me back to my senses. 'I want to go now,' he says, back to his usual seriousness. I'm relieved and we leave immediately. He's already told me that he wants to go to the horrendously expensive gourmet cupcake place and my mental accounts book has been altered accordingly. I'm not poor, not by any stretch of the imagination. I don't have to pay rent and I don't have to do two jobs but I'm far from rich and I've spent more money today than I probably should have.

When our cupcakes arrive, I notice that Emil seems preoccupied. He takes a few bites in mournful silence, then puts it down. I ask him what's wrong. He looks at me helplessly, like he doesn't think he should tell me. 'You can tell me anything,' I reassure him, like the book told me to. He looks down. 'When I was at Peter's house the other day, he asked me something,' I prompt him to continue. 'He asked why I always come to his house but he never comes to our house. He wants to see what my room is like.' I don't know what to say to him. We can't have visitors at any point in the week and the weekends are always too busy. I bite back a spiteful comment about Peter having the luxury of two parents who can share the burden. 'Emil, we don't really have time for people to come round,' I say gently. His face falls. 'But maybe we could all go out sometime, all five of us. I'll text Tino. Maybe we could do it next weekend.' He smiles at me. 'I'd like that,' he murmurs, before picking up his cupcake again.

'_Hey Lukas, what are you doing here? This is the boys' changing room.' _Please God, not this dream again. Every time I was ever bullied at school, all rolled into one. '_You're so moody, I bet you cut yourself'… You're so boring. All you ever do is sit there looking miserable… Just shut up. No-one wants to hear whatever it is you're saying… My sister has bigger muscles than you. _And the one that hurt the most, the one time I was ever brave enough to ask someone out. _What's so hard to understand? I'm gay because I like __boys__. _I can't remember who he was, not his name or face, but the pain is still there. I'll never forget the look on his face as he said it and the way he laughed after. I'm awake now but the dream is still running through my mind. I don't know when the bullying started but it must have been pretty early because I found it routine by the time I was a teenager. I feel a surge of uncharacteristic determination. I will break the cycle. I will be confident and brave and talk to people. And I will make sure that Emil never goes through what I did. I smile to myself. Tomorrow, I'll try to make friends with Mathias.


	3. Chapter 3

I spend the whole morning agonising over what to say to Mathias and it's a miracle that I can concentrate on driving. I listen to him give his tours over the loudspeaker and realise that I was wrong in my prediction. A week on the job and he's just the same as he was on his first day: enthusiastic, engaging and absolutely bursting with life. I must have hurt him pretty badly for him to turn against me in the way he did. In my mind, I go through every possible outcome of what I'm about to do. He could accept my apology wholeheartedly. He could take it as his due and say no more about it. He could be angry and throw it back in my face. That last possibility scares me and threatens to break my resolve. I check the clock. In half an hour, we'll have our break. I hope that's enough time for me to be completely composed.

I stand in the doorway. I can do this, I tell myself. He's sitting right there, although he's got his back to me. That's good. I can hide until the last second. It's not like I'm scared, it's just that I'm… apprehensive. Yes, that's the word. I can do this. I'll just take a deep breath, then walk over to him. He'll look up and ask what I want – coldly, of course, since I haven't said sorry yet. I'll apologise and then… I don't know. I don't know and because of this, the stakes are too high. There's too much that could go wrong and I'm just not ready. The cruel boy's laughter echoes in my ear and suddenly I'm sixteen again, shamed, mocked and humiliated by someone I thought I knew, someone I thought might even love me. The story of my life. Too much of a boy to hang out with the girls, too much of a girl to hang out with the boys, too shy to hang out with anyone. I'm a coward. I can't do this. I turn and flee from the room. Mathias never even noticed me.

I take refuge in the toilets, the one place where I can't be disturbed. Not even my control room is completely sacred. I lean forward, almost curled up, my hands cold against the back of my neck. I bite my lip to stop a scream of frustration from escaping. I'm so weak. Scared into submission by an imagined rejection, something that was only a faint possibility. If he had disdained my apology, I would at least then have known. Now I can never be sure how he would have reacted. He could have been my friend but now he never will be. What exactly am I scared of? I've spent so long avoiding company and relationships that actively seeking them out seems alien to me, inconceivable. It feels unnatural. I can feel myself beginning to cry, but stop abruptly when the door bangs open. I don't dare breathe. People think I'm weird enough without discovering me crying in the toilets. I don't think I could live that one down.

Whoever it is begins to talk and I realise with a little jolt that it's Mathias when I hear that voice with its trace of a Danish accent. He's on the phone and I can't help overhearing him. 'Gilbert, I don't have time for another argument…' I remember that Gilbert is his albino boyfriend, the one to whom he described me as 'Little Miss Priss'. I wonder what they're fighting about. He continues, 'I know you don't mean to, I just wish you wouldn't… Actually, it is a bit of a big deal…' His voice gets more forceful and he begins to sound angry and exasperated. 'For God' sake, Gil, stop making me feel guilty. This isn't about love, it's about you making major purchases without telling me… Well maybe we could afford it if you had a job. 'Being awesome' is not a full-time occupation and it doesn't bring any money in either…' There's a longer pause. His breathing is loud. Mine is quiet as I can make it. 'You never will… You're just being too dramatic… We'll talk later.' He hangs up and lets out an explosive sigh before leaving and slamming the door. I finally stand up, my body aching from being hunched over and trying to avoid notice. I'm almost relieved I didn't talk to him earlier. His bad mood has clearly been brewing for some time, and he certainly wouldn't have forgiven me in his current state of mind.

…

'Peter, be careful on that slide!' Tino calls out, sounding nervous. Peter ignores him and continues going down headfirst and lying on his back. Berwald puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. 'He'll be fine,' he reassures him. It's Saturday and, since I managed to keep my promise to Emil, all five of us are out at the adventure playground. My abiding memory of the place is being pushed off the swings by a group of bigger boys back when I was seven but Peter and Emil seem to love the place. Well, Peter does, but Emil would do anything as long as it was with him. I'm so glad Emil's got a best friend. They look so happy running around together but I note with irritation the mud and grass stains all over Emil's new clothes. I remember that we're out of washing powder. We'll have to stop at the supermarket on the way home, as if I didn't have enough to do.

Tino taps me on the arm. 'Coffee?' he asks, picking up the flask he's brought with him. I smile faintly. My one vice, that delicious drink that keeps me awake. Some days, it feels like it keeps me alive. He doesn't wait for an answer and pours it anyway. I clasp the full mug and lean into the cloud of damp steam that comes up as I wait for it to cool. 'So,' he says to me once he's put the flask away again. 'About that new guy at work.' I blush a little, ashamed to admit my failure. 'Well, we didn't really get off to the best start…' I tail off as I see a flash of irritation cross Tino's face. He hides it quickly but in that moment before he does, his thoughts are clear to me. _Dammit Lukas, why can't you just interact normally with other people? _I hastily continue. 'I was going to talk to him this week but I heard him on the phone and it seems like he's having a bit of boyfriend trouble so there was never a good time. I will try, though.' It's more of a promise to myself than to him. Tino's face brightens. 'Boyfriend trouble? Well then, at least you know…' I cut him off. 'It doesn't change anything. Besides, I don't fancy him.' He seems disappointed. Berwald, who has been listening, smiles indulgently at Tino. 'Matchmaking, are we?' he asks fondly. I go crimson. 'No, nothing like that!' I say a little too loudly.

Fortunately, the awkward situation is defused when Peter and Emil come running up. Peter is crying and has a messy cut on his knee. 'He fell off the monkey bars,' Emil informs us. Tino gasps. 'Peter! I told you to be careful, didn't I? Now look what's happened.' He rummages in his backpack and retrieves plasters and antiseptic wipes. Peter whimpers as the antiseptic stings him. Tino hugs him once it's all over. 'Oh, my poor baby. That must hurt a lot.' Berwald produces a chocolate bar and gives it to a still-sniffing Peter. 'That should make the pain go away,' he says. 'Just be sure to share some of it with Emil.' Watching this mundane family moment fills me with envy. The three of them work so well together, unlike me and Emil. I suppose we're fundamentally mismatched. I'm too quiet and serious to be a good parent – or older brother – to anyone. He cut his knee once, just like Peter. He didn't cry or ask me for help. He just stood there watching the blood trickle down his leg. He knew I wouldn't be able to make it better. I have a staggering sense of my own inadequacy.

A little while later, when Emil and I are at the supermarket, I hear a familiar voice. I stop dead. It's Mathias, and he's not alone. I've left Emil looking at the magazines, so I'm by myself, but I still don't want to be seen. I spot him and the person I now know to be Gilbert as they turn into the aisle where I'm standing and I hurriedly move away, but not before I've taken stock of the situation. They seem to have got over whatever they were arguing about on Monday, since they're holding hands, but the conversation sounds a little strange. They're trying to chat casually but Gilbert keeps picking out expensive things and Mathias keeps putting them back and telling him they can't afford that sort of stuff. I don't want to risk a potentially very awkward meeting, so I glance into my basket, see that we'll survive on what I've managed to pick up and go to fetch Emil. The encounter has shaken me, I think on the walk home. Twice I've seen Mathias in public and twice I've deliberately escaped his notice. This largely paranoid game of one-sided hide and seek must end. For good or ill, I will break my self-imposed silence on Monday.

….

It's like a repeat of last week. Again I'm standing in the doorway and again he's facing away from me. This time, however, my courage doesn't fail me. 'Mathias,' I say, trying to keep a tremble out of my voice. He whips round. 'What?' he asks, returning my former hostility tenfold. I wring my hands. 'I just wanted to apologise for being rude to you before. I'm quite shy. Sometimes I don't come across that well.' He raises an eyebrow. 'Convenient excuse, isn't it? If you were really shy, you would never have had the audacity to be rude.' He doesn't understand but I'm determined to press on. 'I overcompensate,' I admit. 'I guess it doesn't work very well. I'm sorry.' I was expecting this sort of reaction, but secretly hoping it would be different. He remains silent for a minute, then his angry expression lifts. 'I'm sorry too.' he says at length. 'I was wrong to be rude in return. We all have bad days sometimes.' He pats the chair next to him, and I cautiously take a seat. I remind myself not to spill absolutely everything, to stay reserved.

'Parents getting you down?' he asks sympathetically. I'm shocked at the question. 'How old do you think I am?' I ask, mentally preparing myself for a comment about my looks. He shrugs. 'Eighteen, nineteen?' 'I'm twenty-two,' I reply, cursing myself as I recognise a note of my old iciness returning to my voice. He looks surprised. 'No way! You must get ID'd all the time! I'm twenty-four but everyone thinks I'm older.' I can't help but smile. 'I don't really go out drinking, so the whole ID thing isn't really a problem.' I tell him. 'You haven't lived!' he exclaims. 'You mean you've never tasted sweet, sweet beer?' I shake my head. 'I've had a few sips but it doesn't do anything for me.' He laughs. 'You wouldn't get on with Gilbert – that's my boyfriend. He can't get enough of it!' His smile disappears. 'He's pretty hard work actually,' he says in a conspiratorial tone. 'You know, last week he bought a car without telling me. A car! And we don't have much money even without throwing it away on luxuries.' Ah. So that was the 'major purchase' I heard him complaining about. He carries on, 'I wouldn't mind it if only he'd get a job. He just hangs around the flat all day. Doesn't even do the chores while he's there.' He frowns suddenly, as if reprimanding himself for being disloyal to the absent Gilbert.

We chat a little more. I'm beginning to enjoy it but when he asks me about my family, I panic. Dead parents, adopted little brother; these aren't things I want to share just now. I cast about helplessly for a response and he notices my discomfort. 'Never mind,' he says. 'Every family is different.' It's a pathetically diplomatic comment and I can tell he's embarrassed. For a moment I want to tell him about Emil to get the weight off my chest but I don't want this third person affecting the way he views me. I feel ashamed at the way I'm thinking about my little brother. He's not some dark secret, so there's no reason for me not to talk about him. But when people find out that you have a small child, they invariably want to meet them, and the most I can do to ensure stability for Emil is to keep him away from people who'll be there one minute and gone the next. There'll be plenty of time for me to have relationships once he's a little bit older. Until then, it's just the two of us. Mathias snaps his fingers and I jump. 'You were spacing out,' he explains. We resume the conversation and I take the opportunity to analyse him a little more closely.

His eyes are a medium blue; not ocean dark like my own but not piercingly light either. A nice colour, I think, the colour of shallow water. His hair is a healthy dark blond and he wears it spiked up. Sitting this close, I can see that the points are stiff with gel. I like his smile but I stop myself from thinking about the glimpse I caught of his muscular body. He's handsome, I think to myself before I can censor the thought. He has a boyfriend, and I'm not supposed to want one. I look at my watch, disappointed to see that the break is over. 'We'll talk tomorrow!' he says as we part ways. I allow myself to smile. Making friends is easier than I expected.

That evening, I'm still in a good mood, so I offer to read to Emil. He picks out one of his favourite picture books and we curl up together on his bed. I treasure moments like this, I really do. It's a pretty dull story, about the daily routine, but I notice it's very different from our own. For one thing, the child in the book is always picked up from school on time. And his clothes fit. At the end of the book, Emil sleepily tugs at my sleeve. 'Lukas,' he says, sounding half asleep. 'Why does everyone have two parents except me?' I'm lost for words. 'Am I not enough?' I ask, trying to keep it light-hearted. He rubs his eyes and yawns. 'I just thought maybe if mummy and daddy were still here then things would be better.' Help me, childcare guide, and tell me what to say. 'Not everyone has two parents. Every family is different.' I lamely parrot Mathias. I really have no idea what else to say. Emil seems not yet satisfied. 'You didn't say why everyone has two. Everyone at school does.' he insists. I can't be bothered to go into the details. 'Emil, I'm very tired.' I say patiently. I can't even begin to explain the vagaries of relationships and he can't possibly understand that I'm protecting him from emotional damage. 'We can talk in the morning. Goodnight.'

I think about his words as I try to focus on the TV. I don't like him to feel that he's somehow different from everyone else. I can't help thinking that friendly, lively Mathias would make a wonderful father for someone, and I'm far too exhausted in mind and body to reproach myself for the thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Two Weeks Later…

'… And you have to be quiet and not run around. You have plenty of things to do, so you shouldn't get bored.' Emil nods solemnly in reply. It's half term. Normally, I could drop him at Peter's every day but this time the family have gone to Finland so Peter can see his grandparents and I have to bring Emil to work with me. He's excited and I'm just happy to see him enjoying something. 'Will there be puffins?' he asks as we board the bus together. 'I don't know,' I lie. In reality, there are none at all, but I can't exactly tell him that. 'Maybe you'll discover a new puffin colony that nobody's ever seen before.' He falls silent and I notice that he seems worried about something. 'What's wrong?' I ask. He looks up at me, fear in his eyes. 'I'm scared the boat will sink,' he says softly. I smile down at him. 'Don't worry about that. It's the safest boat in the world.' I reassure him.

We arrive at my normal time and I show him around as I do my checks on things. Routine has deadened my enjoyment for the task but Emil has a good time, asking countless questions about everything he sees and declaring that he wants to drive boats when he gets older. 'You've got lots of time to decide,' I say, resisting the temptation to tell him that it's not as fun as he thinks it is. Once we get to the control room, his eyes widen in amazement as he sees all the different contraptions needed to actually move the boat. I let him sit in my seat and pretend to order me around. I bought him a little hat with 'captain' written on it to lessen the blow of having a terribly dull holiday and he absolutely loves it. He wore it all weekend and doesn't seem to have any intention of taking it off now. I hope he stays this upbeat for the whole week.

He knows not to talk to me while I'm driving and when we set off he alternates between reading one of the stacks of books he brought with him and standing on tiptoes to peer out of the windows. He's transfixed. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is as jaded as I am and that this great, rugged landscape still has the power to move and inspire. I listen through the speaker as the tour begins, looking forward to hearing Mathias. We've got to be quite good friends over the last two weeks, although I've still kept a lot secret from him, namely Emil. I give a little start as a totally unfamiliar voice begins to speak, then I remember that Mathias is on holiday with his very obviously on/off boyfriend. From what he's told me about Gilbert, it seems like they're not the best match. They annoy each other endlessly but it's one of those things where they'd prefer to be in an unhappy relationship than be alone. My fear of getting into a relationship like that, and the damage it would do to Emil, is why I've chosen to be single. I shake my head slightly to clear my mind and focus on my work. The weather is perfect: cold but absolutely clear, the water pristine and every detail of the rock visible in the clean, healthy air.

During the break, I treat Emil to a slice of chocolate cake and a hot chocolate, even though I know he'll never finish them both. The fact that he's been so well-behaved, coupled with the fact that I feel guilty for not being able to do anything interesting for him, has made me inclined to spoil him a little. 'Are you having a good time?' I ask as he devours his snack. He grins at me. 'Yeah! But I didn't see any mermaids. Alfred told me that his dad said there are mermaids in the fjords.' I smile to myself. Despite our failure to connect, Emil and I share a love of mythical creatures and fairytales. 'Well, look a bit harder and you might see some. I saw one once. Just a glimmer of a silver tail, but there it was.' His jaw drops comically. 'Really?' I pinch his cheek, loving this rare moment where we seem like a real family. 'Yes, really.' I should indulge him more, I think. If only I had the time. There's not a spare moment during the week and at the weekend I'm far too tired to do anything that's not absolutely necessary.

The week is one of the best I've had in a long time. I love having his company in the lonely mornings and evenings and for him it's an adventure. I can't believe I've never brought him with me before. Some of the other sailors catch sight of us together and I can see the questions in their faces as they try to judge the situation. Cousin? Nephew? Son from an ex-girlfriend? I doubt any of them would ever guess the truth, since we don't have the most typical setup. Emil's comment about everyone else having two parents hits me hard. I never did explain it to him, even though I said I would because in truth I don't know what to say. I just hope that other children aren't mean to him about it. We both feel something missing, I think. He wants someone to play with him and take him places and do things with him when I'm too busy. I want someone to share the load, someone to talk to and relax with. Tino was right, I realise. At my age, I should be out having fun. Children should be a possibility to address in the far future, not the main feature of my life. Any man I managed to attract would run a mile as soon as he found out I come with a four-year-old in tow.

…..

On Monday, Emil doesn't want to go back to school. 'Why can't I come to work with you like last week? It's more fun than school,' he complains as we walk through the streets that are just about touched by the morning light. It's a nice compliment. He had a wonderful time all week and didn't get bored like I thought he would, not even on Friday evening when he had to wait outside the meeting room for a whole hour when the sailors were continuing their little vendetta against me, raising complaints about the most superfluous of things. Eventually, Ludwig threw the matter out and got irritated with them for wasting time. I squeeze Emil's little hand and smile down at him. 'If you don't go to school, you can't learn to drive a boat.' I say to him, smiling broadly. When we get to school and I drop him at the gates, I feel a deep twist of pain as I wave at his small figure and walk off. He deserves better. He deserves what I can't provide. He's lost two sets of parents and ended up with me.

I can usually rely on Mathias to cheer me up when I've had a bad day but today he's in a similarly downcast mood. When I come and sit beside him at breaktime, he doesn't smile and say hi the way he usually does, even though we haven't seen each other in a while. I don't want to press him, since I appreciate the need for solitude more than most but after a few minutes the silence becomes oppressive as we stare down into our respective coffee cups, and I begin to feel that something really is wrong. 'Is everything ok?' I ask, not wanting to sound too intrusive. He sighs heavily and shifts in his seat. 'No, I'm fine,' he replies – unconvincingly, since his voice is strained with barely-concealed anger. His hair is less perfect today and there are shadows under his normally sparkling eyes. He attempts a lacklustre half-smile and says, 'Just post-holiday blues, you know?' I do, but for reasons he'd never suspect, so I just nod sympathetically. 'So, go anywhere nice?' he asks with false jollity, eager to deflect attention from himself and fend off further questions. I shrug. 'No, I had to work. I like to take both my weeks off at once. One is just too short for me.' He looks distracted again and I tail off. I can't fathom what's wrong with him today.

We don't speak for the rest of the break and for the rest of the day I'm racking my brains, trying to guess what might have happened, although I have to put such idle speculations aside later. My evenings are just a manic rush of collecting Emil, occasionally on time, making dinner, making sure he reads one of his turgid school books to me and that I sign his little book diary. I scribble _L. Bondevik _then add _Read well, no hesitation_, even though I wasn't listening as I was running his bath at the time. Then there's the torture of the bath itself, which Emil hates. He squeals because it's too hot or too cold, he complains that there's shampoo in his eyes, he doesn't like it when I towel his hair dry. Perhaps I am a little too rough with him at this part, but my patience has invariably run out by the time we get to the end of one of these ordeals. Then, if I'm not quite ready to drop dead, I read him a story until he falls asleep. Finally, I get a moment to myself. Usually, I flick through my childcare guide and annotate important parts. I've never felt the 'instinct' that the book claims comes when you have a child. Maybe it's because we didn't get a chance to forge a bond when he was a baby. I don't know.

…

The next morning, I'm a little apprehensive about approaching Mathias and indeed he looks even more worn out than he did yesterday. However, he gives a friendly, if a little tired, smile as I sit beside him. 'Sorry about being so uncommunicative yesterday,' he says ruefully. 'I had a bit of a bad time. Gil left me at last.' I'm shocked. I didn't expect the reason behind his mood to be so serious. He continues, noticing my curiosity even though I would never dare ask out loud. 'The holiday didn't really work out. We just argued all the time. On Sunday night, he packed his bags and left. He said I wasn't 'awesome' enough for him. He took that stupid car as well, although I was glad to see it go.' He explains. 'I didn't tell you yesterday because I wasn't sure about everything. You never know with him. I kind of thought he'd come crawling back last night. When he didn't, I knew he was serious. To be honest, I think it was for the best. We were never going to last forever anyway.' I don't know how to respond and curse my emotional illiteracy. 'I'm sorry to hear that,' I eventually say. 'Don't be,' he answers. 'I'm certainly not.' Again, I'm thankful that I'm sparing Emil all this turmoil. I feel a strange and troublesome sense of relief that Gilbert and Mathias are no more and I'm guilty and confused in equal measure. It shouldn't matter to me. It doesn't matter to me. As I said to Tino, it doesn't change anything.

….

'Please, Lukas, please! Why can't you come? I have a really good part!' Thursday night, the night before Emil's special assembly, the one parents are supposed to go to. As if I didn't feel bad enough without not showing up at these events. 'Baby, you know I'm busy tomorrow. I can't just take a day off. If I did, who'd drive the boat?' I'm trying to make him understand something he shouldn't even have to think about at his age. In his mind, work is something people do when they want to and because they want to. Money is just something he can jingle in his piggybank. He repeats his injunction, 'Please!' His face crumples and tears begin to leak out from under his scrunched eyelids. I put a hand to my chest. I can almost feel my heart breaking. I've made him cry. I throw my arms around him. He's so warm. 'I'm sorry I can't be there, sweetie. But Berwald and Tino will be and they're going to film it. We can watch it together on Saturday and it'll be like you're on TV. I'll make popcorn and everything. I'll even let you drink lemonade.' He is inconsolable. 'But Lukas, you've got to be there. It's really important. I told Mr Vargas that you'd be there. Everyone's family is coming. Why can't you?' I have to pretend. 'I'll try.' I say at last. We both know I'm lying.

I hold him tightly and his tears start me off as well. We stay like that for a while, weeping for our own reasons: him because I'm never there for him and probably never will be, me because I know all of these things and because my best simply isn't good enough. It's like the day I shouted at him and he heard me crying later. Our house is slowly filling up with tears, our relationship is untended and my promises are replaced by obvious lies. I kiss his wet cheeks, his soft hair, the tip of his nose. 'I love you,' I whisper. I know he doesn't believe me and that causes the deepest pain yet, the type that reverberates in my bruised heart and takes root in my mind, the type that will keep me up all night, my fist stuffed into my mouth so that my weeping is silent. We are nearly at breaking point and I can't bring myself to think of what will happen when we reach it.

…..

The next morning is one of the worst of my life. The weather is horrible and I focus on navigating through the waves, keeping Emil far from my mind. The viewing deck is deserted; the tourists have retreated inside where they complain about the poor visibility, although it's much more of a problem for me than it is for them. It's been a long time since I've had to give all my attention to this familiar route. At around one in the afternoon, Ludwig's voice crackles over my radio. 'Lukas, do you hear me?' I pick it up. 'Yes, I hear you. What's the matter?' There's a pause and a sigh on his end. 'This weather is awful and according to the forecast it's going to become dangerous. I need you to bring the boat into port right now.' I do a rapid mental calculation as soon as the conversation is over. Emil's assembly is at half past two. We've only just left port, so we should be moored up in about half an hour. If the bus comes quickly and I run all the way to the school then it might just be possible… I concentrate on bringing the boat round. In these conditions, it's slow to respond and difficult to restrain. I am reminded of the raw, natural power of water as the rain lashes the windows and makes it difficult to see far ahead.

The moment everything's done, Ludwig comes aboard and our crew assembles. One of the bolder sailors asks if we can go home. He says there's no point in hanging around and I feel as if I might die of happiness. I get changed at lightning speed and leave immediately. I avoid Mathias – he's my friend but I can't risk getting involved in conversation, since I can't tell him the reason for my hurry. The bus takes a mere five minutes to come and as soon as I'm on, I take out my phone and call Tino. 'Hey Lukas! What's the matter?' I take a deep breath. 'Tino,' I say slowly. 'Don't get your hopes up, but I might just be able to come. We finished work early because of the weather. I'm on the bus right now, so could you possibly save me a seat when you arrive?' I can almost see his round face lighting up as I hear him say something to Berwald, although I can't make out the words. He returns to the phone. 'Lukas, that's wonderful! I do hope you can come!' I smile, allowing myself a tiny ray of hope.

By some miracle, largely involving Olympic-level sprinting and an extremely painful stitch, I arrive at the school just five minutes before the beginning of the assembly and sit next to Tino. He gives me an unexpected hug. 'Oh, Emil will be absolutely delighted!' he says with a huge grin. Berwald is a little more reserved. 'Glad you could make it,' he says with a subtle smile. A couple of minutes later, the children begin to file into the hall. Most of them are trying to spot their parents as they come in but Emil keeps his eyes down. Peter waves to his parents and then notices me. His eyes are like saucers when he sees me. He nudges Emil, who is next to him. Emil looks up and I wave. His expression of pure joy makes me feel better than I have in a very, very long time. Nevertheless, I'll have to gently explain to him later that this was a one-off.

Once all the children are sitting cross-legged in their places, Emil's cheerful Italian teacher, Mr Vargas, addresses the crowd. 'Hello parents and friends, and welcome to our class's assembly! I decided to do something a bit different this year and let the children choose the theme of the assembly, and so our topic today is 'every family is different', suggested by Emil Steilsson-Bondevik. Now, over to the children!' Tino nudges me and winks. I can't believe it. No wonder Emil wanted me to come so much. The first child stands up, clutching a crumpled piece of paper with a little speech on it. There's a poem about families, a song, a little roleplay. Emil doesn't have any lines and I begin to wonder if he's actually saying anything at all. Shortly before the end, however, Mr Vargas stands up again. 'The last part of our assembly is a very important one,' he says. 'Some of the children have volunteered to talk about their families and why they're important to them.'

A group of about five children comes to the front, and Peter and Emil are among them. Emil smiles at me, looking slightly nervous, and fiddles with his piece of paper. I give him an encouraging smile. Peter goes just before him. He's so confident, so self-assured. He's a child who has always been loved. 'My family is me and my daddy and my other daddy.' he says boldly. 'One of them is tall and wears glasses and the other one is short and doesn't. My favourite thing to do with my family is playing on my trampoline.' There's a ripple of laughter. Berwald and Tino clasp hands and look at each other proudly. Emil steps forward. It's his turn. I sit up a little straighter. 'My family is me and my big brother. He has nice blue eyes and he goes to work a lot. My favourite thing is when he takes me to work with him because he drives a boat and I can look for mermaids. But I also like it when he reads me stories and he goes right to the end even if I fall asleep.' There's a collective 'awww' from the audience. When the time comes to applaud, I'm one of the loudest. For once, I feel like I've done something good, and it's a wonderful feeling. I just wish this didn't have to be an isolated incident.


	5. Chapter 5

A week after Emil's assembly, Mathias is on the phone again and I don't dare disturb him. From what I can make out from my hiding place behind the door, it seems as though Gilbert isn't quite yet ready to move on. It also seems as though it's not the first time they've gone through this conversation.

'Gilbert, it's over… No I don't… You know that wasn't the reason… You're not being fair on me or him… You've made your decision… Just treat him a bit better than you did me… Goodbye. And don't call me again.' He hangs up, muttering a curse under his breath. That's another thing I want to hide from Emil: the break-ups, the way he's coming back and then he's going away again, nothing fixed or certain. Mathias stares at his phone for a long moment, his face inscrutable. He shakes himself as if he's waking from a dream and shoves it back into his pocket. I'm not sure how to come in without looking like I was spying on him, so I give it a moment and then saunter in, trying to act like I've just arrived.

He manages a tired smile as I sit next to him in my now-established position.

'Is everything ok?' I ask, probing for information. I have a weird desire to dissect what's happening – or not happening – with Gilbert. He rolls his eyes and slouches.

'Just Gilbert again,' he says wearily. 'Some people just never know when to let go. He's taken up with someone else already but I think he's having second thoughts. And he still hasn't got a job, nor is he likely to.' He runs a hand through his sculptural hair. 'I'm glad I finished with him when I did. Thing is, he's the one who left me, so I don't know if he expects me to be grateful or something now that he wants to come back.' I let him talk. I haven't had a boyfriend for two years, since when my last one found out that I'd have to look after Emil, he suddenly found out that he had a pressing appointment very far away. I'm better off single, I tell myself firmly. I hardly ever feel lonely and when I do it passes quickly. All I can do by way of response is nod sympathetically and look as if I understand.

…..

Later that evening, I'm trying to watch TV when Emil comes downstairs.

'Lukas,' he says softly. He's dressed in baby blue pyjamas and he's clutching Mr Puffin. I feel a surge of love towards him.

'What is it, baby?' He comes over to the couch and I lift him up so we're sitting together.

'I forgot to ask you earlier but can I have a birthday party this year?' He got up for this?

'Your birthday's a long way off,' I answer patiently. 'We can talk about it nearer the time.' His little face creases into a confused frown.

'It's in two weeks,' he says, although there's a questioning tone in his voice, as if he's doubting himself. I pull out my phone to check the date. Sure enough, he's right, and I just about stop myself from swearing out loud in his presence. Children's birthday parties might just be my least favourite thing on the planet but he didn't have one last year so I don't have a choice this time. I yawn. It's very late and I've had a long week.

'It's Saturday tomorrow. We can plan the party then.' I say, my mind already running through the cost of hosting one of these infernal events. Another corner of my brain is panicking about when I'll get a chance to buy him something. I stand up.

'Come on, sweetie, you need to get back to bed. Here, I'll carry you upstairs.' It takes us approximately a minute to get to his room but he manages to fall asleep in that space of time. I tuck him in, trying not to wake him, then kiss him goodnight. I stand at the door for a moment, watching him sleep, and wonder what he's dreaming about.

…..

Monday arrives too soon for me to come to terms with the fact that Emil is having a party. Thankfully, he's only invited seven people. If it was one of those whole-class things, I think I'd keel over. When I dropped him at school this morning, he was holding the little pile of invitations that I spent hours writing and decorating. I'm quite good at drawing, although I don't like to show off about it. I run through his guest list in my mind. First up, of course, is Peter, then the twins Alfred and Matthew, then the three inseparable brothers Eduard, Toris and Raivis. Only Toris, the middle one, is actually in his class but he insisted on bringing all of them. Then there's Lili, the only girl he's invited, although he assures me that she plays with 'boy toys' and that she's tough because her older brother is in the army. I sigh to myself. Anything to keep him happy, I suppose. My own happiness be damned.

At breaktime, Mathias is in a much better mood than he was on Friday.

'How was your weekend?' he asks, before I even have a chance to sit down. I hate it when he asks me things like this, because I have to lie. I mumble something about having a lot of housework and he nods grimly like he understands. A little way into our conversation, he abruptly changes the subject.

'Lukas, would you say that we've become quite good friends?' I look up and see that his face is serious. I have an ominous feeling about this, for reasons I can't quite crystallise.

'Umm… Yes, I suppose we have.' I reply, wondering what he's trying to get at. I feel like I'm on trial. He leans in a little closer to me. I can smell his aftershave, an unusually dark and heavy scent for the day.

'Would you…' he stops to compose himself, then starts again. 'Would you maybe like to hang out together sometime?' He takes a deep breath. 'Not necessarily as friends.' My breath catches in my throat. I wasn't expecting this, not in a million years. My mind is absolutely blank as I try to think of a response and I'm reeling with shock.

'No!' I cry, far too vehemently. 'I don't… I'm not…' He gives me a horrified look.

'Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were…' I stand up in a single convulsive motion. When I speak again, all the frustration I feel, all the things I'm missing in my life come spilling out. The anger I feel about not being able to do what I want is directed at Mathias, who doesn't deserve it at all.

'I am, I am. But it doesn't mean I like you. You're not so attractive that I can't resist you. Don't be so arrogant.' His face darkens from confusion to fury and he too stands up.

'God, Lukas, I thought I had you figured out. I thought you really meant your apology. If you don't fancy me, just say. You don't have to react like it's the worst thing in the world. You spend your whole life pushing people away. Don't you dare be surprised now that they've started to push back.' He storms out onto the viewing deck, leaving me alone. I take shallow breaths. I feel as though I might shatter into pieces.

…..

I feel terrible and spend the rest of the day in the blackest mood I've been in for a while. I go through the motions all evening but I can't bring myself to have any sort of conversation with Emil. When it comes to his bathtime, he whines and complains like always and I suddenly don't have any energy any more.

'Fine then.' I say tightly. 'If you don't want a bath, don't have one.' He looks at me, torn between joy that he doesn't have to have a bath and confusion about what's making me act this way. I go downstairs and just about manage to contain my tears until I reach the couch, where I curl up in a ball. I've done it again. He'll never forgive me a second time, I know that. I can't believe he had a crush on me, though. That was a surprise. It doesn't matter now anyway. I can pretend I do it for Emil, pretend it's my duty, but when all's said and done it's because I'm scared. I'm pathetic. I can't have any sort of relationship with anyone and now I've ruined my only proper friendship. The familiar pain floods back. I wonder how many times a single heart can be broken before it's beyond repair.

My thoughts are interrupted by tiny footsteps that stop just outside the door.

'Lukas?'

'What do you want?'

'Why are you sad?'

'I'm not sad, I'm angry.'

'Are you angry with me?'

'No, I'm angry with myself.' He doesn't say anything for a moment as he tries to figure out what that could mean.

'Oh. Are you going to tell yourself off?' I laugh, a harsh, bitter sound.

'Yes. I'm going to go up to bed and curl up and cry for the whole night then think of how stupid I am and how I always end up ruining things. So yes, Emil, I am going to tell myself off.' He stays there for a little while, unsure of whether he's dismissed or not. Eventually, he turns, and I hear the sound of his receding footsteps.

I'm true to my word. For at least an hour after he goes back up, I don't move. I regret everything I've done today. I don't know what could have happened to make it worse. I think of Mathias, his glittering eyes and lustrous hair. I think of his perfect mouth curving into a smile at something I say or something that occurs to him. I remember the glimpse I caught of his statuesque body. I think that someone as funny, friendly and handsome as him fell in love with me and I can hardly believe it. I can't believe he would love me. I can't believe I love him. And indeed I do. It's just that I haven't loved anyone or been loved in so long that I failed to recognise the feeling in myself. I let out a moan. Of all the things I've ruined, this is the one that meant the most to me. Looking back, I now realise how much I was beginning to treasure our time together and how much I'll miss it now. I cry quietly. I don't want Emil coming back again. I'm still interrupted though – not by him, but by my phone ringing. I pick it up and see that it's an unknown number. For a tiny, crazy second, I allow myself to wonder if it might be Mathias. Then I remember that we never got round to exchanging numbers. Sighing, I pick it up.

'Hello?' I say, aware that my voice is still thick and choked with tears.

'Oh dear, is this a bad time? I could call again tomorrow.' I don't recognise the English-accented voice.

'No, no, I'm fine,' I lie. 'Who is it?'

'It's Arthur Kirkland – oh, of course, you don't know me. I'm Alfred and… Shut up you frog, I'm on the phone… Sorry about that. Anyway, I'm Alfred and Matthew's dad and I was just calling to say that they can both make it to the party and they're very excited.' I'm glad he can't see me, so I don't have to fake a smile.

'That's great. He'll be so happy when I tell him. Thank you.' I manage to reply.

'Ok, just thought I'd let you know… Francis, stop that! And shouldn't Alfred be in bed by now?... Anyway, bye then. I suppose I'll see you at the party.'

'Ok, bye.' I say weakly, listening to the chaos of a happy family going on in the background. It's an unwanted intimacy. I try to clear my mind of thoughts of Mathias and what might have been, if only I wasn't so encumbered. Thinking about these things can't do any good. I get out my notepad and put ticks next to Alfred and Matthew's names. This is my life now: children's parties, school plays, working every hour God sends. This is my life, and I must either be content or find some way to soldier on regardless.

I go upstairs but stop on the way to my room. I can hear Emil's small voice talking to Mr Puffin. I stop and listen.

'… And he said he was angry with himself but that's silly because you can't tell yourself off. Well, he said he was going to, but I don't see how. I hope he's ok. He cries a lot. I asked all the people at school and they say their parents never cry. But Lukas isn't my daddy, so I guess that's ok…' He continues, but I can't bear to listen anymore. I stifle a sob and manage to contain it until I get to my room. I lie facedown on the duvet so that my breath warms a tiny spot and the rest remains cold. My poor Emil. My poor, darling, innocent Emil. My greatest joy. My greatest challenge. A labour of love. A millstone about my neck. He warms my heart one moment then breaks it the next. I have sacrificed so much for him and there's nothing else I can give up, yet somehow it's not enough. This thought still in my mind, I fall asleep and into a disturbing dream.

'_How do you plead, Mr Steilsson-Bondevik?' Emil's all grown up. And he's in court. What's he done to end up here? I call out, but I'm stuck behind a thick pane of glass and he doesn't hear me, although I can hear everything going on._

'_Guilty. But I'm not the guilty one. He is.' He points to me and the glass shatters. I see Tino. Why is he here? He's shaking his head and sighing. 'He didn't raise me properly.' Emil says. 'He just spent all his time crying about his stupid boyfriends. He didn't notice when I was upset. He didn't notice when things started to go wrong. He didn't notice when I ended up a criminal.' I want to say something but even though the glass is gone my throat is dry and my mouth refuses to open. Tino shakes his head again._

'_We did our best for him, Lukas, but we couldn't raise him for you.'_

I wake with a gasp and a shudder. It was a dream. Or was it a premonition? I sit up and see that it's two in the morning and I'm still fully dressed. No point getting changed now. One side of my face is hot and damp from where I was lying on it. The dream has rattled me deeply and I want to scream. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that I can do differently, and therein lies the problem.

…..

Friday finally comes around, and with it the end of my week avoiding Mathias. I can't skip the meeting and neither can he but we sit as far apart as possible and don't speak. His lively face remains creased in a leaden frown, his brows heavy over eyes that lack any trace of their former glimmer. The meeting finishes on time for once, but it doesn't matter too much since Emil's at Peter's house. I can't tell Berwald and Tino about what's happened, so I'll let them go on believing that Mathias is still my friend, but I know I won't be able to lie to them if they ask outright.

When I get to their house, Tino opens the door almost as soon as I knock. There's a worried look on his face as he ushers me inside, and the interrogation begins almost as soon I'm sitting at the table.

'Lukas, I know you don't like to ask for help, but are you managing ok?' I'm not, but there's no way I can ask him to do even more for me.

'Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?' He looks down into his coffee cup, absent-mindedly tracing circles on the tablecloth.

'Oh, just Emil's told me that you cry sometimes. I mean, it's natural. I see a lot of single parents at the nursery and…' I give a careless flick of my wrist, trying to seem nonchalant.

'I do, sometimes, but it's nothing big. I just get tired a lot, I suppose. Particularly now that winter's coming in. The weather makes my job a lot more stressful.' It's an obvious lie and I know he's not fooled. Nevertheless, something in my voice or demeanour makes him drop the matter.

'Well, if you do ever need help, just call. We're always happy to help.' I give a weak smile and sip my coffee.

…..

It's Saturday and I'm relieved to be done with another shopping trip. I set Emil free in the toyshop and he was absorbed in the displays for long enough for me to pick him up a Scalextric track and action figure for his birthday. Now we're walking home and he's persuaded me to take a detour through the park. It's a crisp, clear day, probably one of the last we'll have this year before the snow and fog sets in. My shopping bag is translucent but he stands on my other side and knows not to look inside anyway. I'm still not in a great mood about my mishandling of the Mathias situation and I'm a little annoyed that Emil told Tino about my crying, although I know it was in all innocence.

We round a corner and I stop dead. It's Mathias, out for a run. For a moment I weigh up my chances of getting away without being seen but already it's too late. He's taken out his earbuds and slowed to a walk. He looks from me to Emil and then to me again. A light of understanding begins to spread across his face.

'So this,' he says slowly, still not entirely sure of how to proceed. 'Is why you couldn't go out with me.'

…

**Author's Note: Ooh, cliffhanger! Don't hate me for leaving it like this – I've already planned what happens next, so you won't have to wait long to find out. Thank you all for following, reviewing and favouriting – it's a real confidence booster!**


	6. Chapter 6

So this is it. The confrontation, the collision of the two lives that I've managed to maintain in delicate separation for so long. I knew it couldn't be staved off for long, but it's still an unpleasant surprise now that it's here. Mathias is glaring at me, his features set in a manner that demands answers. Emil is holding my hand tightly, his nails digging in. He looks up at me, confusion clear on his face. I stand up a little straighter. I need to take control of the situation.

'Emil,' I say, keeping my voice flat and free of my current panic. 'Could you go away for minute? Look, there's the playground. Go there.' He's still trying to figure out what's happening but a sharp jerk of my head in the direction of the swings indicates that he won't be getting any answers and he heads off reluctantly, casting glances back over his shoulder as he goes. I take a deep, shuddering breath and turn to face Mathias.

'What was all that about then?' he asks. His arms are crossed and a questioning eyebrow raised. I can't look him in the eye, so I stare at the ground instead.

'My life is none of your business,' I mutter defensively, not sure of how much I should tell him. I wish I hadn't used Emil's name in front of him. It feels wrong somehow, like it's some private piece of information.

'You showed me that in no uncertain terms the other day. If I recall correctly, however, you got involved in _my_ life by telling me not to be arrogant. Surely the least you can do is give a decent excuse for reacting like a date with me would be the worst thing that could ever happen.'

'It's a long story,' I say at length, trying to dissuade him from pressing me further. I'm blushing and there's a faint mist of sweat rising along my spine

'I've got time. Time, and a very strong desire to hear an explanation.'

I lead us over to a bench. We both sit, maintaining a calculated distance. I put my bag down between us to create an extra fortification. I suddenly feel very sick and swallow a few times, trying to moisten my dry throat. He turns to face me. I look at him, then away, then down at the ground, then to the side. I can't keep still. The silence stretches out like a piece of thread – tightening, tightening and eventually snapping.

'If it's such a long story, you'd better get going.'

'I suppose I owe you an explanation,' I begin hesitantly, my mind blank.

'Yes, I suppose you do.' The only way to placate him, I realise, is to tell the truth, then apologise for not telling him before.

'Ok. Well. That boy who was just with me – his name's Emil – is my little brother. My parents adopted him when I was eighteen but they died two years later and he became my responsibility.' Now for the apology, which I have no idea how to form. 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him before but I thought you'd stop wanting to be my friend if you found out. I'm no fun. I can't go out or anything because I have to look after him. I don't want to get a boyfriend because I don't want Emil getting emotionally damaged when we end up breaking up.' Suddenly, it's all spilling out. I'm confiding far more than I probably should. 'I'm doing such a bad job of bringing him up. I don't spend enough time with him. I'm always late for picking him up after school. I never play games with him or talk to him. I'm so scared that he'll end up badly but there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that I can do to make things better.'

Through great force of will, I lift my eyes and force myself to look at Mathias. I feel a strange sense of exhilaration; for once, I haven't shied away from my problems. It's a good feeling. Mathias looks thoroughly chastened. He runs his hand through his hair, something I notice he does a lot, and sucks in air through his teeth. He looks off into the distance, digesting this shocking new information.

'Oh my God! I would never have guessed.' he says at last. His voice is a few notes higher, a sure sign of his surprise. 'You poor thing.' He puts his head in his hands for a moment, thinking, then sits bolt upright. 'So every time you were rude to me, you were protecting Emil. When I asked you out, you didn't say no because of me, but because of him.' His wounded pride is certainly healed, I think. 'I wish you'd told me sooner. I love children. I could have helped you. God, no wonder you look so tired all the time. I noticed, but I didn't like to ask. I wish I had now. It wouldn't have bothered me if you'd said about having a brother.' He's about to put an arm around me, I think, but thinks better of it at the last moment and retracts it.

I sigh. 'It's hard. The thing is, I'd probably never have wanted children if I'd had the choice but now I've got Emil. I love him but it's just so much work. I don't have any freedom. And now he's persuaded me to let him have a birthday party and I have no idea what to do. I can't afford to hire a clown or anything but by the same token it'll be a pretty boring party if I'm left in charge.' I drag my sleeve across my face, the full horror of a children's party only just beginning to dawn on me. Mathias, on the other hand, looks like it's the best news he's had all week.

'Really?' he asks, sounding excited, then stops himself. When he speaks again he sounds shy, something rather unusual for him. 'I… Well… If you need help, I could come along – I mean, only if you want to. Maybe I could do games or something. And I know a few magic tricks. But yeah, only if you want to.' I smile, relieved at not having to run the party myself.

'That's great,' I say enthusiastically. 'Thank you so much. I think you might just have saved my life!' We both laugh, friends again. 'You should smile more,' Mathias says. 'It suits you. I always like to see people happy. The worst thing ever is seeing people sad and knowing it's your fault.' I can only agree with that. He doesn't repeat his offer of a date and I don't mention it. I still have a lot to think about before I'm ready to discuss the possibility of love again. If Emil likes him, I decide, then maybe we'll see how it goes.

…

'Lukas! Lukas! Wake up!' I struggle awake, blinking to clear my eyes enough to look at the clock. It's six in the morning.

'For God's sake Emil, I said you couldn't get up until at least seven!' He climbs into my bed, seemingly unbothered by my irritation.

'I can't read clocks yet,' he smugly informs me. 'I'm awake, so it must be daytime. And it's my birthday so I'm in charge for the day.' I try not to be impatient with him, since it is indeed his birthday.

'Who told you that?' I ask, already feeling the first waves of a sleep-deprivation headache that I know will last all day.

'Your friend Mathias.' he replies. I roll my eyes. Once Mathias and I had had our little conversation, I decided to introduce him to Emil and explain that he'd be at the party. They got on straightaway, which was a great relief, but I couldn't help feel like I was being somewhat usurped as I watched them together. Mathias can afford to be fun. He doesn't have the daily grind of childcare wearing him down. I try to ignore the unkind thought. He's doing me a great favour today.

I'm looking forward to seeing him today. We spent every break for the whole week planning the party, the games, the prizes. I'm going to do all the food so I can be safely hidden away in the kitchen, far from all the madness of a group of five-year-olds. Mathias is bringing all the equipment for the games and he's bought all the prizes himself. I told him he didn't have to but he insisted. I look down at Emil and see that he's fallen back to sleep. So much for his excitement. He has a little smile on his face. I stroke his hair and listen to his breathing until I fall asleep myself.

By way of some unnervingly accurate body clock, he wakes again at precisely seven o'clock and doesn't fail to notify me.

'Lukas! It's time for my presents now! You promised me, remember?' He's tugging at my hand. I suppose I should be grateful he's not jumping on me the way some children do.

'Ok, you can go downstairs now.' I say, my headache returning. He sprints downstairs and I follow, my mind still dulled by sleep. Once he's in the living room, he eagerly tears the paper off his new toys. I watch his face carefully, checking for his reaction. He squeals with joy, to my great relief. 'Thank you Lukas! Will you race the cars with me later?' I smile and kiss his cheek.

'If I get time. Now, how about you open your card?' I spent a long time decorating that card. It's got a drawing of Emil riding a giant puffin on it and he laughs when he sees it. He opens it up and haltingly reads out the message, his brow creasing in concentration.

'Dear Emil. Happy birthday – I can't believe you're already five whole years old! I hope you have a… Lukas, what does that say?' I look over at where he's pointing.

'Wonderful. It says wonderful.' Satisfied, he continues.

'A wonderful party with all your friends. Lots of love, Lukas.' He beams at me, and I scoop him up into a hug. It's at times like this where I think that everything might just go well.

….

The doorbell rings, signalling Mathias's arrival. I expect Emil to go running to answer it but he seems to have recovered some of his former shyness and lags behind me. I open it to see him standing there, carrying several large boxes that seem very precariously balanced. I can't help but laugh.

'How did you manage to ring the bell?'

'I used my nose. Now can I please come in? This pile is about to crash down, and that would really spoil the party.' Emil giggles, coming out of his shell. I head inside and gesture for Mathias to follow. Once he's put down his boxes, he hands one to Emil.

'Happy birthday!' I gasp in surprise.

'Oh Mathias, you didn't have to. You're already doing so much today.' I protest, but he shrugs it off. At any rate, Emil has already torn off the wrapping paper.

'Look, Lukas! Mathias got me Lego!'

'Well, what did you expect? I'm from Denmark. We invented Lego!' I give Emil a warning look.

'Thank you very much.' he hastily adds.

I'm in the kitchen when the first guest arrives. Unsurprisingly, it's Peter, with both parents in tow. Emil runs to meet his best friend and the two of them disappear somewhere upstairs. I belatedly remember that Peter's never visited before.

'Aren't the others here yet?' Tino asks. I shake my head.

'No, you're the first.' Berwald sighs.

'Tino, I told you we weren't late. You were getting worried about nothing.'

'I know, but we _could _have been. It's just a good thing I checked the travel news before we left.' That seems to remind him of something. 'Oh! But if we hang around then we really will be late for the film. Sorry to run off like this, Lukas, but we've really got to go.'

'It's ok. Enjoy the film.' I wave them off, then go to check on Mathias. He's making balloon animals. He can't talk, on account of having a mouth full of a half-made dog, but indicates that he's very busy. I give an apologetic smile and return to the kitchen in despair. The recipes sounded so easy when I printed them out.

A few minutes later, the remaining guests begin to arrive thick and fast. First up is Alfred and Matthew, who are immediately spirited away by Peter and Emil. I'm a little shy introducing myself to his parents, but luckily they do most of the talking.

'Hi there – it's Lukas, isn't it?' I nod, forcing myself not to stare at the floor. 'I'm Arthur – we chatted on the phone – and this is Francis. I can't seem to get rid of him, but he keeps following me around and insisting that we're married.' For a split second, I'm horrified, but then I realise it's a joke and manage to smile. Francis just laughs.

'Oh look, Arthur, you're embarrassing him. Please ignore my ill-mannered husband. These English people are so rude.'

'It's fine.' I say faintly, a little overwhelmed. Fortunately, they leave soon after.

Then comes Lili, who is just as much of a tomboy as Emil said she was. She's dropped off by her older brother, both of them dressed in identical military-style outfits and with matching hairstyles.

'Do you have a gun?' she asks immediately. 'My big brother Vash has a gun.' The conversation over, she runs to join the boys. Her brother, whom I assume to be Vash, rolls his eyes.

'Sorry about her. She used to be so sweet – pink dresses, baby dolls, all that stuff. Now all she cares about is guns and fighting. Maybe it's my fault for joining the army.' We share a wry smile. We both understand the trials of having younger siblings.

The last three guests are the brothers Eduard, Toris and Raivis. When I open the door, I see that they're all holding hands like some kind of chain, and all of them seem nervous. When the others rush down to meet them, they seem anxious and unwilling to go until their dad nudges them inside the door.

'I don't think we've met,' he says once they're gone. 'I'm Ivan.'

'Lukas,' I reply.

'Don't worry about those three too much,' he tells me. 'They're shy but they don't get pushed around. Toris is always talking about Emil at home. He says they're really good friends at school.' This is news to me. The only one of his friends Emil mentions to me is Peter. Once Ivan leaves, I call upstairs to the children. The party has begun, and I gladly take refuge in the kitchen.

…..

'Thank you for coming, Miss Lili. Do you have your party bag? Excellent!' Mathias gives a mock bow and waves Lili off. The party is over, to my great relief, although it didn't go as badly as I thought it would. Lili gave Emil a toy gun, to no-one's surprise, Matthew won hide and seek when everyone forgot about him, Raivis lost musical statues on the first turn because he was shivering, Alfred was disqualified for shouting 'I'm the hero!' whenever the music stopped. All in all, a chaotic occasion. Mathias was very popular with the guests, due to his seemingly endless supply of sweets and high-fives. He even made me laugh by performing tricks while they were eating, although I managed to avoid being his 'lovely assistant.'

Lili was the last to leave, and now I turn my attention to tidying up. Emil is in his room playing with his new toys. I'll have to make him write some thank-you letters tomorrow, if I have the energy. For now, I concentrate on restoring the house to its former glory.

'You don't have to hang around,' I tell Mathias. 'I'm just cleaning up now.' He looks slightly guilty.

'Aw, I feel really bad about not staying but I don't actually own any of this' – he gestures to his balloon-making equipment – 'and I have to give it back by five o'clock.' He looks genuinely ashamed. 'I feel really bad.' he repeats.

'It's ok.' I say as we walk to the door. 'I honestly can't tell you how much help you've been today. Emil had a fantastic time.' The air seems heavy, as though there's something that needs to be said. Abruptly, Mathias hugs me tightly and I instinctively stiffen for a moment. I allow myself to relax. It feels nice to be hugged. When he releases me he says, 'I know you worry about Emil but… My offer still stands, if you do want to hang out sometime.'

I don't say anything for a long moment, thinking about how to reply. 'Come on,' he urges me. 'You need to do something for yourself for once. Have a bit of fun.' He's right.

'Ok,' I eventually reply, feeling like what I say will somehow change the world. 'I would like to go out sometime.' For once, there isn't even a twinge of guilt.

…..

**Author's Note: Hey readers! I hope the resolution to the cliffhanger was to your satisfaction – it had better be, because I wrote it twice before it was good enough! Also, I finished planning the rest of the story yesterday and I can now confirm that there will be a total of 10 chapters. Hope you enjoy!**


	7. Chapter 7

'… And you're sure you've got your toothbrush? Yes? Good. Now, don't forget to eat whatever they cook for you and go to bed when they tell you.'

'Yes, ok.' Emil is impatient to leave. I finally took Tino up on his offer of having him for a sleepover and now we're just waiting for Berwald and Peter to come and pick him up. I'm equally excited, though for completely different reasons. Tonight, I'm going on my first date with Mathias.

The doorbell rings and Emil runs down to answer it, only to find that he can't reach the latch. I open it for him and am almost knocked over when Peter speeds inside and he and Emil hurtle upstairs, giggling.

'Peter, we're not staying long!' Berwald calls up, but neither of the boys shows any indication of having heard. He sighs. 'So, Lukas, are you looking forward to tonight?' I fiddle awkwardly with my shirt cuffs.

'Sort of. I haven't been out with anyone in so long that I've kind of forgotten what it's like. I hope it all goes well.' He smiles.

'I remember my first date with Tino. Well, it wasn't exactly a date.'

'What happened?'

'I knocked him off his bike. He was ok, but I said I'd drop him home. When we got there, he insisted that I stay for coffee and the rest is history. Couldn't do anything about the bike, though.' He pats my shoulder reassuringly. 'Don't worry. You'll have a really good time and…' He's cut off by a loud crash from upstairs and frowns. 'We'd best be going,' he says apologetically. 'Peter! Emil! Come down now.' I hear small feet hurrying to the stairs, then they appear. Peter is excitedly describing in great detail all the fun things he's planned for the evening. Emil is holding his backpack in one hand and Mr Puffin in the other. He comes over to me.

'Bye Lukas,' he says. 'Have fun with Mathias.' I hug him tightly.

'I will. And you have fun with Peter.' He walks to the door and the three of them wave goodbye and leave.

As soon as they're gone, I have a 'what now?' moment. It's four o'clock and Mathias isn't coming round until nine. I have an awful lot of time to kill sitting around and feeling nervous. And I am nervous, horribly so. We're going to a club, which was his idea. It's my personal hell but I was too shy to tell him. He's put up with my variable moods, taken the revelation of a little brother into his stride and twice now forgiven me unreservedly where others might not even have wanted to look at me. I owe him this at least. Besides, if he does miraculously end up wanting to stay with me, we won't get to go on very many dates - not with Emil around. I don't know why I hate crowds so much, I just do. I just hate the feeling of being surrounded on all sides so that it's hard to move or breathe. As a child, I used to have nightmares of falling over in a crowd and being crushed as people walked over me. It's something that's never really left me. I'll find some way to tolerate it tonight, I decide.

…

In spite of all the time I've had to compose myself, I revert to being a nervous wreck the moment Mathias rings the bell. I check myself one last time in my bedroom mirror. Jeans, blue-and-white striped shirt, smart shoes and my hairclip. I look presentable, I think. Blue always looks alright on me because of my eyes. Out of some strange superstition, I slip one of my runestones into my pocket. It feels like a good idea to bring something from home to this unfamiliar place. Well, not totally unfamiliar – I've seen the club, just never been inside. I've never had the desire to go, nor someone to go with. The bell rings again and I realise that I've been daydreaming. I swallow my fear and go downstairs

I arrange my features into a smile as I open the door and it surprises me to see that Mathias is acting almost as shy as I am.

'Hi,' he says, far more quietly than usual. There's the faintest dusting of blush on his cheeks. He thrusts his hands into his pockets.

'Hi,' I reply. He smiles, a more subdued version of his usual grin.

'Shall we go then?'

'Ok.'

I step outside and we start walking. We don't know how to fill the silence. Something has changed, something has shifted now that we've crossed over from friendship to something more and neither of us can tell whether or not it will go well. My heart is beating fast. I wish I could read his thoughts. I wish I could tell if he's getting bored, if he's having second thoughts about dating someone who's socially inept, who can't understand jokes, who blushes and tails off in the middle of a conversation. I risk a tiny glance at him. His face is inscrutable – not smiling but not frowning either, perfectly neutral. He catches me looking and one corner of his mouth lifts slightly.

'Excited?' There's a slight tremor in his voice.

'Apprehensive. I haven't been on a date in a while. I can't really remember what to do.' I admit. To my surprise, he takes my hand. To his surprise, I let him. I like it. It reminds me that this is really happening, that I'm not just fantasising.

The club is in a nice setting, I'll give it that. It's right at the end of the high street, with a shop on one side of it and a small park on the other. I hear the pounding music and the lights that flash fast enough to trigger a seizure and I feel a sharp stab of doubt. There's a queue stretching for quite some way and judging by the noise the place is already crowded inside. Mathias and I join the end of the line. It moves fairly quickly, the music getting progressively louder as we near the entrance. Once we're near the front, he gives me a playful nudge.

'I hope you've brought your ID.' he says teasingly. I have, since I'm fairly certain I'll be asked for it. It's a little annoying. Do I really look under eighteen? Sure enough, while Mathias is waved through without a hitch, I'm stopped.

'I need some proof that you're over eighteen,' says the bored-looking Italian bouncer who's leaning against the doorframe. He looks a little like Mr Vargas, Emil's teacher. I wonder if they're related. I produce the card and he gives it a cursory look. 'Hmm. Twenty-two? I had you pegged as younger. Anyway, enjoy the music. Or not. My boyfriend's the DJ, so don't be expecting anything amazing.' He returns my card and I head inside, bracing myself for the onslaught.

It's just as traumatic as I expected. Every inch of space is crammed. There are couples dominating the dancefloor, single guys propping up the bar and trying to flirt, a thousand little dramas being played out – someone's seen their ex, someone's just been dumped, someone's date never turned up. I'd forgotten the madness of nightclubs until now. Mathias asks if I want a drink, shouting into my ear so I can hear him over the deafening bass that vibrates through my whole body.

'What do you want?'

'Just water.'

'Vodka?'

'WATER!' We both laugh at our deafness. In any case, we never get the drinks as just then a song we both recognise from our teenage years begins to play. It was some terrible romantic thing, but that doesn't mean I'm not word perfect. Mathias seizes my hand.

'Come on! It's not a proper date if we don't dance!'

'I would hardly call this dancing!' I protest as he drags me to the floor. The lights are flickering madly, skimming over the room, nowhere staying illuminated for more than a couple of seconds.

'Who remembers this song?' the hyperactive Spanish DJ demands, and a great cheer goes up. Clearly, the answer is everyone. Mathias is really getting into it, doing all the moves I vaguely recall from the music video. I feel terribly self-conscious, so I just make a few half-hearted attempts. He looks amused but doesn't press me. He knows by now that public humiliation isn't really my thing. The song finishes and segues into something slower. Suddenly, the manic movement of before is replaced by coupling up for this romantic part and all the single people immediately leave the floor. Mathias tries to get me to dance but I'm too shy, so we leave the floor as well. He doesn't mind too much.

'I don't like slow songs either,' he tells me. We stand aimlessly for a few moments, watching the dancers, then he taps my shoulder. 'I'm just going to fix my hair,' he says. 'Wait for me here. I'll be back in a minute.'

He goes off and is instantly swallowed up by the crowd. I'm alone, but not, as the tide of people ebbs and flows around me so that I feel like a piece of driftwood. I breathe slowly and deeply, trying not to succumb to panic. I clutch my runestone but it doesn't bring me any comfort. It's as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. I'm suffocating on the fumes of hundreds of sickly body sprays, the medicinally sweet smell of hair wax, the different flavours of the countless drinks being poured and consumed. I make another attempt to control my breathing. My head is spinning, my ears are ringing and I can feel the sickeningly violent beating of my heart. People push past me, hands brush me and sometimes linger, eyes rake me up and down and then move on. It's all too much. I can't wait for Mathias to come back. He'll think I've stood him up. I don't care. He won't want to go out with someone who almost passes out in clubs anyway. I have to leave before I faint. I begin to make my way through the crowd towards the exit sign. The noise is like a physical thing, hemming me in on all sides. I think I hear Mathias calling my name although I don't see how I could possibly make out any distinct sound in that cacophony. Finally, I reach the door and slip outside into the cool night air, almost stinging in its cold freshness.

The door opens out into the little park I saw earlier. I find a bench where I can sit, just until my vision clears. A few seconds later, Mathias bursts out as well. I guess I wasn't just imagining his voice. He looks around then spots me and comes over.

'Lukas? Lukas, what's wrong?' I sit up straighter but a wave of nausea causes me to curl up again.

'I'm really sorry. I just started feeling dizzy so I had to go outside. I don't like clubs very much. Crowds make me panic.' I expect him to be annoyed, since he's wasted his money but instead he sits down beside me and drapes a comforting arm around my shoulders.

'Oh, I wish you'd said. I wouldn't have minded going somewhere else.' I lean into him and he tightens his hold in response.

'I didn't want to be rude. I know you like going to clubs and since you were paying I thought I'd just try to put up with it. I've made you waste your money now.' I say miserably.

'Never mind,' he reassures me. 'How about some food?' I check my phone and see that it's almost midnight.

'Nowhere's open at this time.'

'We'll find something. Are you ok to move on now?' I nod and we stand up. He holds my hand again. I'm beginning to enjoy the feeling.

After about half an hour traipsing the deserted town centre, we concede defeat and go to McDonald's. I expect it to be empty but there are a few people dotted around and we actually have to wait in line. I wonder what's happened to bring all of them here on this particular night. Once we're at our table, Mathias smiles apologetically.

'Sorry it's not a five-star black tie dinner,' he says ruefully. That draws a smile out of me.

'It's fine. I don't like fancy food anyway. My diet is pretty much anything a five-year-old eats.' I stop myself. I don't want to be that annoying guy who only talks about his children. Mathias laughs.

'Oh, so you mean things like chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs?'

'What?'

'Clearly not. But they were awesome. My mum used to tell me they were dinosaur meat.' It's such a random story that I giggle. From there, the conversation flows naturally through various childhood stories. It seems like Mathias was a bit of a troublemaker in his youth, whereas my stories mostly involve me getting beaten up. When we eventually finish eating, it's almost half past one.

'I suppose I'd best be going,' I say reluctantly. Tonight has been fun, in spite of the little mishap at the club. Mathias shakes his head.

'You can't go home alone,' he says, sounded shocked at the idea. 'It's too dangerous.' I feel a flash of irritation.

'I'm not a teenage girl, no matter how much I may look like one. I can look after myself.' I snap back.

'No, no I didn't mean it like that. I want to walk you home anyway. It's what you do on the first date. Besides, don't you want to spend more time in my glorious presence?' He's got a point.

'Alright then.' I say as we leave.

When we get to my house, we're both shivering. Neither of us remembered to bring a coat and winter is indisputably here. Mathias in particular is suffering and he still has a long walk ahead of him. I feel partly responsible, since he was taking me home.

'If you come in, I'll get a coat to lend you, although it might be a bit small for you.' He looks relieved and smiles gratefully.

'Aw, thanks. That's awesome.' We go in and I run upstairs, already despairing of finding him a suitable coat. I'm so much smaller and thinner than him – he probably wouldn't even be able to put one of mine on, let alone button it up. I rifle through my wardrobe, conscious that he's waiting. Eventually, I find an old jacket that used to belong to my father. He was still smaller than Mathias but not as small as I am. It's the best I can do. I go back downstairs with the coat draped over my arm and call Mathias's name. No answer. I peer into the living room and see that he's fallen asleep on the couch. I debate whether or not to wake him but decide that it's best just to let him sleep on. I smile at his expression, which is endearingly peaceful, then get the duvet from Emil's bed to cover him over. It's been a wonderful date.


	8. Chapter 8

Without an alarm clock or hungry Emil to wake me up, I sleep far later than usual. When my eyes eventually struggle open and I glance at the clock, I see that it's almost ten. I sigh and bury my face in my pillow. I'm supposed to be collecting Emil in an hour, so I'll have to rush. I drag myself out of bed and pull on yesterday's clothes, not particularly caring what I look like. My hair is a complete mess but there's not a great deal I can do about that. As I sleepily walk downstairs, I suddenly remember that Mathias is still here. I'll have to send him on his way in a minute.

At the sound of my leaden footsteps, he emerges from the living room and looks up at me.

'Where are you going?' he asks. I yawn.

'Getting Emil. I said I'd pick him up at eleven.' Mathias looks concerned.

'You look exhausted. Here, give me the address and I'll go and get him. I met the family at the party, so they know me. You should go back to bed. You look like you don't get enough sleep.' He's right. Most nights, my mind is far too active for me to drop off and then I only get a few short hours. It has a cumulative effect. I'm touched by his kindness.

'That's very nice of you,' I say as I reach the bottom of the staircase. 'But you don't have to. I'm up now, anyway.' Even as I say this, my voice is muffled by another yawn.

'It's ok, Lukas. I want to do this.' He hands me his phone. 'Type the address in here. It's no problem, honestly. Particularly since you were so nice to let me crash here last night.' I shrug.

'I couldn't very well wake you up.' I reply diffidently. 'Besides, you really couldn't have walked home in that cold even with a coat.' He urges me again and I reluctantly begin to type in the address. I feel a little strange about having things done for me. A lonely upbringing taught me to be self-sufficient. I give the phone back and he heads to the door, pausing with his hand on the latch.

'I'm not leaving until I see you go back upstairs.' he says with mock severity. I decide that I might as well catch a few minutes' extra sleep and turn to go back to my room. As I do, I hear the creak and click of the door opening and shutting.

I don't expect to be able to sleep again. There's no residual warmth left in either my bed or my pyjamas and I shiver as I slide down under my blankets. As soon as my head makes contact with the pillow, however, all my accumulated tiredness rushes into me, knocking me straight into the abyss of sleep. My rest is undisturbed. I have a few shreds of dreams, although none that stay in my mind. They're warm and full of pastel colours, so I suppose they're nice at any rate. When I wake again, the sun is shining through my blue blinds, making everything look like it's underwater. I check the clock, expecting to have been asleep for about half an hour. It's one in the afternoon. I must have even more exhausted than I thought. I sit up, straining to hear Mathias and Emil. Surely they must be back by now. After a few moments, I begin to detect the faint sound of indistinct voices and music. They're watching TV. I guess I should go down and relieve Mathias of his duties but more importantly I need to eat something. I'm absolutely starving, having missed breakfast by about four hours.

I pull on a hoodie over my pyjama top and go downstairs. For once, my head isn't stuffy and my mind is clear. With every step I take, the noise from the TV becomes louder until I can make out individual voices. It's Emil's favourite cartoon, something about superheroes. I've never really asked him about it. Maybe I should. At the door of the living room, I poke my head inside. They're sitting on the couch under the duvet I brought down last night. There's an empty Jelly Tots bag on the floor. I want to go in but hang back, suddenly feeling like I'm not needed. Mathias notices me before I can disappear again.

'Hey Lukas, come and join us! Emil's desperate to tell you about his sleepover.' he says brightly. I remember I'm still in my pyjamas and feel embarrassed but I can't exactly refuse his invitation. I take a step into the room, horribly self-conscious. He'll certainly stop fancying me if he sees me like this and sees the way my baggy pyjamas hang off my skinny frame and the sleeves almost cover my childishly small hands. If he thinks any of these things, he doesn't show it. He slides along to make space for me and I sit beside him. Wordlessly, he slides one arm around my waist and I rest my head on his shoulder. With Emil, we make a little family. I could get used to this. I have to remind myself not to. Mathias will get bored; the novelty will soon wear off and he'll leave. He'll go off with someone a million times more attractive than me and who doesn't have a five-year-old to worry about.

Once the episode finishes, Emil eagerly begins telling me everything he did at the sleepover.

'It was so cool! We made pizzas and then we made cupcakes and put icing on them and then we all played snakes and ladders and I won. Then we played hide and seek and I hid in the bath and Peter turned the tap on and I got wet and Berwald came and shouted at us and I had to wear Peter's spare pyjamas. And then we went to bed but we stayed awake until really late. And I had toast for breakfast.' I've never heard him say so much at once. He must be having a sugar rush from those Jelly Tots.

'That sounds like fun. But I did tell you not to mess around.' I say, figuring I should impose some sort of discipline.

'Aw but it was Peter, not me. Did you have a good time with Mathias?' Mathias answers for me, sparing me the awkwardness of glossing over my little meltdown.

'We certainly did! We danced the night away and then we went to McDonald's. It was awesome!' Emil pouts.

'Lukas never takes me to McDonald's,' he complains. I blush.

'Emil, stop complaining. You don't even like the food there. All you want is the toys and they're no good anyway.' In front of Mathias, I feel the need to show off my quasi-paternal authority. I don't want Emil to lose respect for me just because Mathias is nicer and a lot less irritable. As it happens, it's Mathias himself who defuses the situation with a suitably cheerful subject change.

'It's a nice day today. How about we go to the park?' He stops and his smile disappears as he realises that he's basically just invited himself. 'I mean, if that's cool with you.' I can't find any reason to object.

'Ok. Just give me ten minutes to change and we'll go.' Escaping upstairs into my comfortingly silent room gives me time to think. I try to arrange my disparate thoughts rationally. I love Mathias. He loves me back, at least for now. Is he my boyfriend yet? I'm not sure. We haven't kissed or anything. We've held hands, but I don't know if that counts. Will he leave me like all the others? Of course. I look in the mirror, analysing every inch of my unappealing body. I have nothing to offer, nothing to tempt him. I'll just have to enjoy this little interlude while it lasts, until he gets tired of me and Emil and my excuse for a life.

When we leave, the sky is blue and the air unseasonably warm. There's none of the heavy closeness in the air that comes before a storm, so it should hopefully stay this way for a while. Emil skips ahead as we walk and Mathias holds my hand again. We're about halfway to the park when I start to feel sick. My stomach hurts terribly and I feel dizzy and faint. I remember that I haven't eaten anything all day. Mathias notices me wilting and puts his arm around me again, stopping me from collapsing.

'Lukas, what's wrong?' he asks, worry in his voice. I try to recover myself.

'Nothing; I'm just hungry. Look, there's a shop there. We can buy something. I just need to eat something, then I'll be ok.' He seems reassured, having found out it's not a serious problem, but insists on keeping his hold on me as we pick up a few things to sustain me. I feel weak. He must be judging me, thinking that it's too much work to always be looking after me. I realise that every time I see him there's some kind of crisis for him to deal with. No-one's patience is inexhaustible, and his must surely be nearing its limit.

By the time we get to the park, I've made a decision. I'll have my fun today and then, later, I'll tell him what I'm sure he wants to hear – that he doesn't need to bother with me, that he can find someone else. I'll tell him that pity is no sound basis for a relationship. I'll tell him that he can do so much better than me. But there are some things I won't tell him. I won't tell him that I can't resist smiling whenever he does. I won't tell him that his eyes are the perfect shade of blue. I won't tell him that one touch from him sets my whole body tingling. Most of all, I won't tell him that I'm letting him leave before my love becomes too deep and too powerful, before it consumes me and can no longer be quelled. I'll never, ever tell him that. It wouldn't be fair. There's no way anyone could ever love me in the way I love him. There's no way that I, with my girlish body and crippling shyness, could ever inspire the same feelings in him as he does in me.

…

Mathias ends up staying the whole day. It would be fun if I wasn't brooding over how to tell him to leave, to get out of my life before he ends up hopelessly entangled. I still let him hold my hand. I still let him wrap his arm around my waste. He doesn't try to kiss me. I don't know what I'd do if he did. Emil loves him, and my previous sermons on the prevention of emotional damage fill me with guilt. The less he gets to know Mathias, the easier it'll be to explain that he's never coming back and the less it will upset him. All day, I obsessively watch Mathias's face, trying to read his thoughts, but his expression is impenetrable; a look of perfectly serene amiability that could just as well be genuine pleasure as suppressed boredom or irritation.

In the afternoon, Emil gets out his box of Lego and begs Mathias to play with him. He doesn't even ask me. I retreat to the kitchen and start to make dinner. It's getting dark. Mathias really will need to leave soon. I'm running out of time to think of what to say. I practise, whispering things into the empty air.

'You've been very kind to me but…'

'I think it would be best if…'

'I don't want you to feel that…'

Nothing is quite right. I clench my fists in silent fury. I wish I could just walk away from it all and leave everything behind. My life is full of ruined things: the raising of Emil, my love for Mathias, which I'm about to lose, my life in general, all the things I've done. There's just too much to think about, too much left unfinished. The oven beeps. I put everything onto plates and set them out on the table.

Mathias dominates the conversation, for which I'm thankful. I can leave one corner of my mind open to what's being said and allow the rest to continue battling with the thorny issue of how to talk to him. Apparently, however, I'm not listening very closely because when he suggests that he and I watch TV together, I find myself accepting. I send Emil up to bed without a story but with a promise to read him an extra one tomorrow. He looks mystified as to why something as insignificant as Mathias coming to visit should disrupt our daily routine. I wish he was old enough to understand.

We end up watching a completely forgettable romcom. The only humour is provided by Mathias's unnervingly good impressions of all the lead characters. The inevitable conversation never leaves my mind for an instant. As soon as the film ends, he flicks the TV off. My heart starts to beat fast. Over the course of the evening, we've become entwined so that I'm sitting only a few inches away from him. He leans even closer. I know what's going to happen. I pull away.

'Stop. You're making a huge mistake.' I say, my voice shaking. He pulls back too.

'What do you mean?' he asks. The confusion in his voice is so real that my walls come down and my words pour out.

'You don't want to get involved with me. My life is a mess and I don't want you to be trapped in it. You'll find someone else, someone better. Just don't fall in love with me, for your own good.'

'Lukas, I…'

'Please. Even if you like me now, you won't in a few weeks, I guarantee it. I'm unattractive. I look like a girl. I can't do any of the things you like because I'm too socially awkward. I can't go out because I have to look after Emil. You'll get bored. We'll run out of things to talk about. You'll be bored and yet you won't know how to leave me because you pity me. So I'm sparing you the trouble of leaving me. I'm releasing you.'

He looks absolutely astonished. I don't see why. I've only told the truth.

'Lukas, none of that is true. Not a single word. Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone might actually love you?' He takes me by the shoulders and meets my eyes. I see that for once the light of laughter in his is extinguished.

'I love you, Lukas,' he continues. 'Not as a stopgap or because I'm desperate or because I want something quick. I'm not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I don't feel sorry for you. I admire you. You work so hard to raise Emil and you're doing so well even if you don't feel like you are. And you don't look like a girl. Yes, you're skinny, but so are a lot of people. And your eyes. My God, your eyes. I could stare into them all day. And what's up with that curl you have? Honestly, Lukas, I love you. I'll never get tired of you. I only wish you could just see yourself the way I see you. Maybe then you'd realise that you are attractive and that you're an amazing person.'

I'm crying. I wasn't expecting this, no way. I look him up and down, trying to see if he's lying, but his expression is one of total sincerity. He sees my tears and embraces me tightly.

'Aw, sweetie, don't cry. And don't be so surprised that someone loves you.' He strokes my cheek, brushing the tears aside. 'Now, shall we try again?' We do. He leans in to kiss me and this time I let him. If I still doubted his love, the softness of his lips against mine, the gentle warmth of his hands, one wrapped around me and the other in my hair, these things would convince me otherwise. It's beautiful. It's perfect. And I finally feel a little less worthless.


	9. Chapter 9

'Hey Lukas, knock knock!' Mathias is telling another one of his jokes. We've only been together for two weeks but I've already heard all of them. I usually try to summon up a smile to make him happy but today my mind is on other things. He pouts and nudges me with his elbow. 'Lukas? Come on, this joke doesn't work without audience participation.' I sigh.

'Sorry, I'm just thinking about stuff.' I stare out of the window. We're at work, during that precious half-hour or so where we can stop working and be with each other. The other sailors can't believe that we two opposites have come together and they've been avidly charting our relationship with unconcealed disbelief.

'What kind of stuff? Are you wondering how it's possible for someone to be as cool as me? I could give you some tips.' For once, his unstinting good humour is irritating.

'No. I've been trying to figure out a way to tell Emil about us. He still thinks you're just my friend and he's ok with that. But this… change, this new sort of our relationship, it makes everything different. You know that I want to protect him but I don't know how I can keep him secure and be going out with you at the same time.' I look down at the table, my despair mounting. Mathias takes my hand in one of his and strokes my cheek with the other.

'Don't worry about it. I know Emil a bit and he likes me. Us not being just friends anymore isn't as much of a big thing as you think it is. He's so young he probably won't even notice the difference.' That reminds me of a day a few weeks ago, when a sleepy Emil asked me why everyone else had two parents and he was the only one who had to make do with just a brother. Maybe Mathias is right. Maybe having a boyfriend would do more good than harm.

'I suppose so. But the point is how to tell him. It needs to be in a way he'll understand. I don't want to confuse him or get the wrong idea.' Mathias is silent for a moment, thinking. Eventually, he says,

'Why don't we tell him together? We could take him out to get ice cream or something and then say it to him.' It's a tempting prospect. I wasn't looking forward to breaking the news alone. I give him a grateful smile.

'Good idea. Tomorrow's Friday. Is that ok for you?' He nods. 'Well then you can come and pick him up from school with me. There's a little ice cream parlour quite close. We'll take him there.' He smiles.

'I can't wait.' He squeezes my hand a little tighter. 'And don't worry too much about it.'

…

At home that evening, when Emil is asleep, I find myself with a few spare moments and don't know how to fill them. My thoughts return to tomorrow and I begin to feel that creeping sense of regret that comes after making a hasty decision. These last couple of weeks have passed in a wonderfully romantic haze that makes me see everything in a better light. Now, however, the fog is beginning to lift, and the landscape it reveals is a desolate one. I worry that I may have been foolish in throwing myself so wholeheartedly into this relationship, having kept myself apart for so long. What sort of message does this impulsive act send to Emil? I shake my head, clearing my mind. Mathias is right. Emil won't mind. He won't even understand. And it would do both of us good to have someone around. I look at my phone and see that it's still only nine o'clock. I feel lonely, so I decide to call Mathias. He always brushes my problems away with the exact right words. I press his name on my contacts list and wait for him to pick up.

'Hey cutie, what's up?' Even though he can't see me, I blush at the nickname.

'Please don't call me that. And nothing's really up, I'm just thinking about how to tell Emil about tomorrow. Should I tell him that we're both picking him up or not? I think he should know beforehand but I don't really want him to be spreading the story around school before he properly understands what's going on.'

'Don't tell him,' he advises me, 'children love surprises and this will be a really cool one.' He pauses for a moment. 'Now, let's forget all that confusing stuff and pretend you only called to have a chat with the most amazing boyfriend in the world.'

'I must have dialled the wrong number then,' I say, with a twist of dry humour.

'Lukas! That was rude. It was also a lie, obviously stemming from your jealousy that comes from being less cool than me. I offered to give you lessons but…' He tails off and I smile as I picture his exaggerated shrug as he does so. 'Anyway, let's talk.'

'… And Z is for zero, which is the number of people who could ever replace you.' Mathias has a triumphant note in his voice as he says this and finishes the game. I still can't quite believe that he convinced me to play 'A-Z of Love' with him, although I do have to admit it was quite amusing, even for me. The clock catches my eye and I realise that we've been talking for a full hour, which will punch a considerable hole in my phone bill.

'Much as I've enjoyed our conversation, I really have to go now,' I tell him.

'Aw, that's a shame. Do you want to get your beauty sleep? I mean, you don't really need it because you're so beautiful already…' He goes off on another tangent.

'Seriously, though. This is costing me.' I say, cutting him off.

'Ok, cutie, see you tomorrow. Just sending a kiss across the airwaves now,' he makes a kissing sound and I giggle. 'I love you.' he finishes.

'Love you too.' I smile to myself as I hang up. I get off the couch, deciding that it would be nice to have an early night for once. As I stand up, I catch sight of Emil standing just outside the living room door.

'Is everything ok, sweet?' I ask him, bending to ruffle his hair. He looks up at me with his unsettling eyes. They've always contained a quiet, perceptive sort of intelligence, even when he was a baby.

'I got thirsty. I need some water.' Then, casually seguing from one topic to the next, 'Who were you calling?

'Mathias.' A flash of confusion crosses his face. He's thinking about something.

'Do you love Mathias?' That brings me up short. He must have been listening. I'm not ready for this, not at all, and this makes me irritated with him, perhaps unfairly so.

'Emil, you shouldn't have been listening in.' I say firmly, hoping he'll drop the matter. 'Now, come through to the kitchen and I'll get you your water.' He refuses to be fobbed off so easily.

'You said you loved him on the phone. Do you really love him? Do you kiss him?' I blush violently and my annoyance turns to anger. I've never liked probing questions, never.

'Emil, stop that. It's none of your business. You mustn't listen to me when I'm on the phone. You wouldn't like it if I listened to you and Peter, so don't do it to me.' He's obstinate tonight.

'I just asked.'

'Well don't. If you really want to talk then we can but wait until tomorrow. You should be asleep by now.' I turn towards the sink to fill up his glass. The hiss of the water calms me and my burning cheeks begin to cool. I hand it to him with an air of finality.

'There. Drink that all up then go to bed straightaway. You're not being very good tonight.' He drains the water in one gulp then gives the glass back to me without a word. I hear his soft footsteps fading as he climbs the stairs, then the click of his door, then silence settles back over the house. I drag my sleeve across my face, suddenly exhausted. I feel guilty about deceiving him but I just can't find the words to tell him. I realise that I'm depending on Mathias to do the hard work and tell him for me. I can't bring myself to care anymore. I'm worn out with guilt and worry.

…..

All the next day, I dread the afternoon. Poor Mathias has to spend his whole break reassuring me and even then I'm not convinced. When we finally get to leave after the meeting, we go to catch the bus together. He tries to hold my hand but I get self-conscious.

'People might say things,' I mumble, looking away. He seems angry at the suggestion.

'And do you care? That's their problem, not ours.' He continues in a softer voice. 'Come on, love, nothing's going to happen.' Convinced, I let him take my hand. This little episode has reminded me of one of the things I love most about Mathias. He's so strong. Yes, he jokes around all the time, but he has a serious, sincere side. I trust him absolutely, and I find that he gives me strength just by being around me. He reassures me whenever I need it, which is most of the time.

We're not late to pick up Emil for once, even after the meeting, which is a blessing. There are still quite a few children there and I see him in a corner, playing with some building blocks alongside Alfred and Matthew. I call his name and he looks up, his expression changing from oh-it's-you-again to open-mouthed surprise as he sees that Mathias is with me again. He jumps up and comes over to us, the game forgotten.

'Why is Mathias here?' he asks me, shy again. Mathias is still fairly new to him, despite all the time we've spent together.

'We thought it would be nice for us all to get ice cream together. You'd like that, wouldn't you?' I reply, trying to make up for last night's brusqueness. He perks up immediately at the mention of his favourite treat.

'Ok. Can I have a chocolate one?' he asks eagerly. Mathias answers for me.

'Of course you can! But just keep it away from me or I might take a sneaky little bite.' To me, he adds in a lower voice, 'My treat,' and pats his pocket. I put up token resistance to this gift but allow myself to be won over.

Once we get to the ice cream parlour, Emil skips straight over to the freezer where all the flavours are displayed, as does Mathias. I hang back, having chosen simple vanilla, and try to order my thoughts. I find us a table and sit, running through the plan in my mind. I have until they come back to formulate what I'm going to say. Lost in thought, I don't notice their return until Mathias slides onto the bench beside me and playfully touches my cheek with his freezing ice lolly. I turn to face him and he gives me a look that tells me he'll deal with the thorny issue of our revelation.

'Emil,' he begins. 'How would you like it if I came to play a bit more often?' Emil isn't at all fooled. He sees through everything, that boy.

'Do you love Lukas?' he asks, the firmness in his childish voice demanding a straight answer. Mathias is taken aback.

'Well yes, yes I do. And that's why you'll be seeing a lot more of me. Does that sound fun?' Emil isn't sure of how to answer, having rarely previously been asked his opinion on me.

'I guess so. If we can watch TV again. That was fun.' Having delivered this benediction on our union, he goes back to licking his double-chocolate ice cream with two flakes. I would never have allowed it but Mathias won't have to deal with the fallout from a sugar crash later.

'Well, that went better than expected,' Mathias comments, turning to me with a relieved smile. 'Now, when are you free for another date?'

…

'Have you got the tickets?'

'Yes, my lord.' Mathias says, a little sarcastically. I forgive him, since I _have _asked about a hundred times. I can't help but be nervous. For one thing, it's only our second date. For another, we're going to an expensive art exhibition – the history of portraits - for which I'm paying half. Berwald and Tino were so delighted by the news that Mathias and I were together that they insisted on part-funding the evening. They don't even have Emil to worry about since I splashed out and hired a babysitter. There's movement near the front of the queue. I stand on tiptoes to see what's going on. Mathias sighs, thinking I won't hear. He's not a great art fan but we decided without ever explicitly saying that I did something unpalatable for his sake on our first date, he now has to sit through something of my choice.

After a few more minutes we're let in and I immediately start looking around. I go right up close to the paintings, analysing the facial features, the composition of the figures, the brushstrokes – everything. Mathias is already bored and occupies himself by rating all the people in the pictures out of ten. I unsuccessfully try to screen him out.

'Hmm… That body… I'd say a six. But an eight for the face. Nice eyes.'

'Whoa! Ten all round!'

'Eugh, three. If that.'

After a while of this, he gets bored again and pokes me in the ribs.

'What?' I hiss, embarrassed by his immaturity.

'Hey Lukas, do you think the people in the one over there look like you and me?' He points and I look. I don't like what I see.

'Mathias, that's a man and a woman. And I'm guessing you're the man.' I say bitterly.

'What do you mean? I thought she was a man. Honest!'

'You're not making this any better. Face it, you don't even want to be here. Just go back to judging your stupid imaginary beauty pageant. Next time I want to do something intelligent, I know who not to ask.' I turn on my heel and walk off, leaving him stunned. I wouldn't normally be so vehement in my response but my appearance is a really sensitive thing for me, the reason why I was bullied for so many painful years. It belatedly occurs to me that I never told him about it.

He doesn't try to talk to me for the rest of the evening, which doesn't bother me too much, but when the time comes to leave, the silence becomes oppressive. It swells on the long walk home, each of us casting little glances at the other to see whether it's safe to say something. Finally, at my gate, I burst the bubble.

'Mathias, I'm sorry I was so rude to you. Again,' I say, feeling wretched. 'You don't know this but I was bullied at school for a long time because of my looks. People used to say I was secretly a girl and someone else spread a rumour that I was only pretending to be a boy so I could get into the boys' changing rooms. That's why I get so upset when people comment on the way I look. But I know you were just joking, and it wasn't fair what I said to you. I'd go back there with you any time.'

'Lukas, I'm sorry too. If I'd known even half of that, I'd never have made a joke. I shouldn't have anyway but that just makes it worse.' He embraces me tightly. 'Please don't say you believed any of what they said to you. They were all idiots and it's a good thing I never met them because I would have had quite a few things to say.' He pulls away a little so we can see each other. 'You're absolutely beautiful, Lukas. I've said it before but I'll keep on saying it until you believe it completely. 'You're beautiful, strong and clever and I love you. I love you more than anything.'

'If you stay with me, we won't get to go out very much.' I say, looking at the ground. I'm giving him one last chance to escape but hoping with all my heart that he won't take it. My confidence can't all be healed in one evening and I need this last affirmation. He heaves a loud sigh of frustration.

'Stop doing that! Seriously! It's like you don't want me around or something. The thing is, I don't care about not going on many dates and not going on expensive holidays and not having tons of disposable income. I had all these things when I was with Gilbert and I don't think I even had a moment's true happiness with him, not one. I want to be with you. I want to raise Emil with you and be part of your little family and hug you when you get tired and then curl up with you both to read a book or something. These things are so much more important than just living to please myself. You are so much more important.' He kisses me and I feel the wonderful tingling shooting up every inch of my body. His arms are tight around me and I can feel the warmth of his skin and the mad rush of his heartbeat. He is my security, my shelter. I love him as much as he loves me and I know that he will never, ever break his word to me.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Hey readers! I hope that you've enjoyed the story because this is going to be the last chapter. This is something of an epilogue, set a while after the main story, and there will be copious amounts of fluff. Also, I suggest that the anonymous reviewer who informed me that 'yaoi is disgusting' should probably not be reading fanfiction. Enjoy the new chapter and thank you all for reading, following, favouriting and reviewing. You're all as awesome as an albino Prussian.**

…..

One year later…

The weak winter sunlight struggles through the blinds and seeps under my eyelids, drawing me out of the depths of sleep. As I haul myself up onto my elbows, blinking to clear the sleepy blurriness from my eyes, I realise that Mathias isn't there beside me and I can't hear him and Emil downstairs. I'm immediately suspicious. The last time he was this quiet, I got up to find several hundred Lego bricks completely covering the kitchen floor – his idea of a practical joke. Needless to say, I had him on his hands and knees picking them up for most of the day. Fairly confident that he won't be trying that one again, I curl back up, taking advantage of the rare tranquillity as I think on the events of the past year. He kept every single one of his promises, but my having to look after Emil really did make it difficult for us to get time together. So he moved in with us about six months ago. I know everything went pretty quickly, perhaps more so than I would normally like, but I know that I made the right decision. I've known that since that night at the gate, when he swore that he would stay with me forever.

Living with someone has taken some getting used to. I'm not lonely anymore, that's the most obvious thing. He's always around when I need him. He always knows how to cheer me up – more than that, he can see when I'm on a downward spiral. He's fulfilled Emil's dream of being part of a family. But there are other, more mundane things, the daily joys and irritations, that mean just as much as these. There's the way I always have to get up a few minutes before him in the week because if I don't he'll get the bathroom before me, and it transpires that his majestic hairstyle takes twenty minutes to construct each morning. There's the way his shorter working hours let him drop Emil at school and pick him up at the right time each day. There's the way he won't let anyone leave the table until the game of Go Fish has a clear winner. I could go on. I could talk about his habit of leaving doors open – that one seriously gets on my nerves – or I could talk about the warmth of his arms as they encircle me when I'm on the verge of sleep. Yes, I'm quiet. Yes, I'm shy. But I could talk about Mathias for hours.

After luxuriating for a few minutes, I realise that I still haven't heard a sound out of either Mathias or Emil and I begin to wonder what they could possibly be doing. I reluctantly slip out of the deliciously warm bed and go downstairs to investigate the mysterious silence. I still can't hear anything once I get to the bottom of the stairs but after straining my ears, I pick up Mathias's voice, coming from the kitchen. As I approach, the sounds go from muffled noise to actual distinct words, although I only catch the tail end of whatever he's saying.

'… So you can't tell him, ok?' he says to Emil, who nods solemnly.

'Tell me what?' I ask, entering the room. Mathias looks up, a sheepish, too-wide smile plastered to his face.

'Nothing, cutie pie,' he says, way too brightly. I look at Emil but his expression tells me that he's not going to blab, having trusted with an important secret. I sigh, knowing I won't get anything out of either of them, and start making breakfast. The stack of bowls on the worktop tells me that the others have already eaten.

'You could at least have loaded the dishwasher,' I call to Mathias over my shoulder. He comes up behind me and hugs me.

'I could, but I didn't.' he says teasingly, kissing my cheek. 'I had many other vital things to do.'

'Like what? Sharing secrets?' I struggle to pour my cereal with his arms still wrapped around me.

'That's for me and Emil to know and you to find out.' He releases me and begins loading the dishwasher, choosing to act like that was the reason for my irritation. I'm curious. What exactly were they talking about?

A little while later, I've just finished getting dressed when Mathias pokes his head around our door.

'When you're ready,' he says, 'come downstairs.' He disappears before I have a chance to ask him what's going on. The house is silent again when I reach the bottom of the stairs but there's a note taped to the front door. _Come outside _it says, in Mathias's messy, looping handwriting. I frown as if it might tell me something. He's certainly leading me on a merry dance today. I slip on my shoes and open the door a fraction, half-expecting Mathias to appear dressed in a gorilla suit or something equally ridiculous. Instead, I see him and Emil sitting in the car that we've just bought. Still confused, I go out to them.

'What's all this?' I demand. This game is starting to annoy me. I'm not into pranks and Mathias knows this. However, he just laughs.

'Get in!' he says playfully.

'Not until you tell me where we're going.'

'Mystery tour!' is all he'll say. I've given up getting a straight answer out of him, so I sit beside him, deciding that I might as well play along with whatever it is he's planned. As soon as I've done up my seatbelt, he begins driving. As we move, I pay close attention to where we're going, trying to rule out destinations for this so-called 'mystery tour'. We pass the town centre, to my relief, and we pass the vast out-of-town shopping centre, the very thought of which gives me a panic attack. By now, we're on the motorway, a long way from any familiar places, from anywhere that we've visited before. We turn onto a country road and I snap.

'What are you doing? Just tell me where we're going.' I hiss through clenched teeth. We have a rule about not arguing in front of Emil.

'It's only a little further. You'll love it when we get there.' he says, trying to placate me. I don't want to pursue the matter, not when he's being so deliberately opaque. We travel a little further in silence, then he takes an abrupt turn onto a rutted track with grass growing down the middle of it.

I gasp as our destination finally comes into view. Mountains rise above a meadow dotted with daisies. A stream rushes down the rock face and through the grass. I turn to Mathias, all my angry reproaches having suddenly, noiselessly, fallen from my lips.

'This is incredible! How did you find this place?' He smiles, pleased with my reaction.

'I took a wrong turn once and since I was already lost I decided to explore.' he admits. I laugh a little. It's definitely something he would do. He's more of a child than Emil sometimes. He stops the car and we get out. He goes round to the boot and produces a large box stuffed with picnic food. Once again, I'm amazed. 'I hope you're hungry.' he says cheerfully.

'I am! I am!' Emil shouts, up on tiptoes in his excitement. Mathias has changed him, made him so much more sociable. He's still working on me. He smiles and ruffles his hair.

'I wasn't asking you, Mr Emil. But I'm sure you can have a couple of scraps if me and Lukas don't finish it all between us.'

A while later, once all the food is finished, I'm lying on the picnic rug, absorbing the last few rays of sun we'll get before winter asserts its supremacy. Mathias is sitting staring into the distance, not talking for once. Emil is a little way off, making a daisy chain for Mr Puffin. The stillness is wonderful and rare, broken only by the whisper of the stream, the soft _thock _as Emil picks daisies and the faint rustle of the tiniest breath of wind. Mathias speaks, shattering the tranquillity.

'Lukas, I've been thinking.' Something in his voice breaks through my languor and makes me sit up.

'What about?'

'Well, you and me and Emil – we make a good team, don't we?' I nod cautiously, not sure where this is going.

'I think there's just one thing missing that would make us a proper family,' he continues, sounding nervous. He doesn't look at me.

'I'm not adopting another one.' I tell him firmly. He'd like another child, and he's tried to persuade me, but I'm not giving in.

'No. That's not what I meant. What I mean is…' He swallows hard and blinks, holding his eyes shut for a fraction longer than necessary. 'What I mean is… Lukas, I think we should get married. So will you marry me?' I'm speechless. He watches me anxiously, waiting for a reaction.

'Of course I will!' I throw my arms around him and he returns the embrace. My heart is pounding with the exhilaration. Mathias releases me and reaches into his pocket.

'I bought you a ring. Do you want to try it on? I didn't know what size you'd need and I couldn't exactly ask you, so…' He's so nervous that I put him out of his misery.

'Just show me.' He slowly withdraws the small box and opens it up, presenting its contents to me. It's a thin silver band with a small lapis lazuli stone set into it.

'I couldn't afford a sapphire so I got you this. I just wanted something to match your eyes. If you don't like it I can exchange it.'

'It's beautiful,' I say softly, reverently. 'I've never liked jewels anyway. You picked exactly the right thing.' I take it out of the box and carefully slide it on. It's a perfect fit – not too loose, but not so tight that it can't be twisted. I look at it from all angles. It doesn't catch the light the way a sapphire would but the stone is polished and shines. Mathias watches me, smiling from ear to ear.

'Don't I get a kiss then?' he asks me teasingly. I leap into his arms and they enfold me tightly. He leans down to meet my lips and I reach up to meet his. It lasts a long time and when we finally break apart he still holds me close. I look down at my newly-adorned hand.

'We're getting married,' I whisper in wonderment.

…..

Six Months Later (The Wedding Day)…

'… Hold still or I won't… No, don't worry, I've got it… I think that's all of them.' Tino steps back and gives me an appraising look, then checks his lint roller to make sure that he has indeed removed every single speck of dust from my suit. I scrutinise myself in the mirror. I don't look half bad: black trousers and tailcoat, white shirt, cream waistcoat and dark blue cravat. Mathias teased me about wearing a dress and at one point even bought one of those bride magazines and left it somewhere I'd find it. Suffice to say that he ended up with a very nearly broken nose and a very nearly broken engagement. Tino and I both wince as we hear little-boy voices yelling downstairs.

'Poor Ber,' he sighs. 'I wouldn't want to be the one trying to get Peter into a suit.' Emil and Peter are the pageboys and neither one of them is pleased about the formal dress code. Somehow, Emil's whining didn't bother me. It's so much better to get strident complaint from him than it was to get silent disapproval.

'Do I look ok?' I ask nervously, wanting to keep my mind off what's about to happen.

'Wonderful,' Tino assures me. He clasps his hands together in a gesture of pure joy. 'Oh, Lukas, you deserve this happiness so much, you really do.' He sighs to himself. 'I can't believe it was nine years ago that I got married. Nine whole years.' I do a quick calculation. That would have made him twenty-nine. I'm twenty-three.

'You don't think I'm too young for this, do you?' He bites his lip, embarrassed at the hole he's just dug for himself.

'Well, you're a lot younger than I was. But your life has been very different. And you and Mathias are so perfect for each other that there's no sense in waiting.' He smiles again. 'Oh, I really want to hug you but I don't want to crease your suit.' Another awkward silence descends.

'It's so kind of you to be giving me away. I could have gone alone.' I'm truly grateful to him, since I don't have any relatives who can take on the role. He dismisses my remark.

'It's an absolute honour. And there's no way you could have gone alone.' He looks me up and down. 'You're so different from the boy I met, the one who just wanted to do his best for his brother. The one who was so deeply unhappy.' He pats my shoulder, recovering his former brightness. 'This is supposed to be the best day of your life. So smile!' I force a smile for his benefit but inside I'm a mess of nerves. Tino looks at the clock and so do I. It's time to leave.

The music starts. It's a nice Baroque piece, one I chose myself, but at this moment it gives me no pleasure. Once the first notes ring out, Tino gives my arm a tiny squeeze of reassurance and we start walking. Emil and Peter follow behind, hair parted and bodies scrubbed to within an inch of their lives. I take deep breaths and try to focus on not doing something stupid like tripping over my own feet. Mathias is standing at the front, looming larger with every step I take. My mouth is parched and my heart is racing. Soon, too soon, I reach the front. Tino leaves me with a last smile and arm squeeze. I turn to face Mathias.

'You look amazing,' he whispers, eyes shining with the light of love.

'You too,' I whisper back, my nerves extinguished.

The ceremony goes by in a blur of readings, music, poetry… All things I love and that mean something to me. Along with Mathias, I spent hours agonising over what to choose. Then, before I even fully realise what's happening, we're making our promises to each other. Our unbreakable vows that bind us together through every circumstance. As I speak, my voice doesn't have the slightest waver, imbued as it is with the great strength of certainty. We bend together and take the rings from the cushion held by Emil. Mathias goes first, sliding it onto my slim finger – though my appearance hasn't been a source of upset in months, I'm still conscious of how small my hand looks when he's holding it. Then it's my turn. It goes on easily and I don't drop it, something I was worrying about earlier. Once it's on, I look up and meet Mathias's eyes. It's done. I'm married. We're married. Mathias kisses me and everyone erupts into cheers. Berwald and Tino applaud madly. Peter and Emil start squealing and jumping up and down, thrilled by the chance to make noise. I reach for Mathias's hand and hold it tightly. We smile madly at each other until the celebration finally dies down.

Later, when all the food is gone, Mathias stands up to make the speech expected of him.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' he begins. People leave off their murmured conversations and give him their full attention. 'You all know Lukas. A couple of you have known him for years, some of you know him through me, some of you have only met him for the first time today. When I first met Lukas, I thought I knew him. He was quiet and a little shy but always good for a chat. He was a great friend and, since I had a boyfriend at the time, that was all I allowed him to be. But later on I started noticing other things about him. I started noticing his eyes and their wonderful colour. I started noticing his hair and the way it was always so perfect even though he never did anything to it. I started falling in love with him, but when I asked him out, he refused. I went home angry that night. Angry, embarrassed and confused. I'd thought I had him all figured out.

But then I found something out that completely changed my view of Lukas. I found out that he didn't reject me because he didn't like me but because he was protecting his younger brother from getting caught up in adult situations of relationships. He was sacrificing his own happiness out of love for Emil. After that, I realised that not only was he beautiful and charming but also brave and incredibly strong. And that just made me love him even more. I risked asking him out again. He said yes, and I was overjoyed. But then I found out yet another thing about Lukas. He didn't see himself the way I saw him. He thought he was feminine and unattractive. He thought he was a complete mess. He thought I only liked him out of pity. He was wrong about all those things, but it took me a long time to convince him. Lukas, you are the strongest person I've ever known, and the bravest, and of course the most beautiful. I'm so truly blessed to have found you and I'm so honoured that you've decided to spend your whole life with me. I promise I'll make it a happy one.' I try not to cry and fail miserably. He sits back down beside me and I lean against his shoulder while he strokes my hair.

'That was an amazing speech,' I whisper to him. He smiles and wraps his free arm around me.

'Well, it had an equally amazing inspiration.'

It's our first dance, something that's been making me nervous. It's only the two of us, and everyone's watching. I try to ignore the audience and concentrate on following the pattern of steps. After a minute or so, I manage to stop looking at my feet and look at Mathias instead. His arms tighten around me slightly. I remember the morning of the day I first met him, that morning when I wondered when my boat would come in. Now, I realise, it has. At last, at long last, and guided by the fair wind of Mathias's love, my boat has come in.


End file.
